At work today I ran into a girl I know whose kids go to the same school I used to.
"I saw a photo of you in The Dove the other day," she said.
I was puzzled, trying to remember being in an establishment called The Dove and the paparazzi being present.
"What the hell is The Dove?"
"The school magazine."
Ugh. I realised it must have been a photo from the 25th school reunion, held late last year. [And let me pause at this point in the compelling narrative to say that I had no intention of going, having had me fill of reunification at our 20th anniversary, but The Burp had insisted on my presence and then the day before bailed out on the grounds that she was moving house. A likely excuse.]
I explained just the first bit of this to the work girl. And added, "I dread to think what that photo was like - I may have had a little more to drink than intended. How embarrassing."
We were in the lift and it stopped to let her off at her floor. "Oh it was a lovely photo," she said, as she stepped out. Then she turned and gave me a look I can only describe as enigmatic. "You looked.....appropriately happy."
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