Ever since moving back last month, I keep running into people from my teenage years. I went to a giant public high school, so it’s bound to happen.
On Saturday, I was out with a cute boy when I ran into a guy that looked familiar. We stared at each other. Finally we figured out we’d gone to high school together. Then he told my date that I’d made out with a gay guy at our 10-year reunion. I said, “No way, he was super hot!” I do not think he was gay, but apparently a lot of on-lookers did. Wow—my past is haunting my present. I’m real glad to have these testimonials pop up on my dates.
Then last night I went to a Padres game with my family. We had amazing seats behind home plate.
There was a guy about 4 rows down wearing a nice dress shirt and looking gainfully employed. I realized he went to my high school and I told my mom. When the guy stood up, she was like, “There’s your friend! Say hello!” And my dad was like, “Erin! That guy is standing up! Say something!”
First of all, my parents never try to set me up, so it’s funny that they were gunning for a hello. But what was I going to do, shout over all those people, “Hey, remember me, Class of ’97?” I turned to them and was like, “A) Look at my hair right now and B) he’s wearing a wedding band.” They dropped it immediately! HA!