Especially I remember Marianne. She was a tall, blonde cheerleader with big breasts, round hips, and a well-upholstered behind. (Weight loss and dieting would not become a ruling passion among females for some years yet.) My heartthrob, she was. She made my heart throb, all right. Unfortunately, the reverse seemed not to be the case. She didn't even know who I was and nonchalantly brushed off my feeble efforts to approach her. It was a damn good thing I didn't need to ask her for the the time of day, because she likely wouldn't have given it to me.Why then, did I attend the thirty-fifth anniversary class reunion? Partly out of morbid curiosity and, who knows, I might just get some satisfaction for all the slights I had endured from my former classmates. Vengefulness has been a part of my nature for as long as I can remember.The refreshments could have been better. I've never been a fan of stale pretzels and greasy clam dip. The conversation was stale and greasy, too. Who were these. Lucille wanted more children -- and Kanye was MORE than well equipped to give them to her!Kanye expected Lucille to go all noble on him at breakfast -- but she didn’t. He, himself, knew better than to initiate the conversation. When it DID occur, he intended to crush it. But Saturday wore on, and they did things, both on their own and together -- and the subject didn’t come up. Kanye started to worry -- had Lucille gone behind his back? Was Mr. Mattingly suddenly going to show up to help him pack his things? He projected calm and confidence, but inside, he worried.Lucille waited until after dinner. “Kanye, about last night...”“Yes?” Kanye projected polite interest -- and that was it. He wanted Lucille to carry the ball -- so he could spike it.“That ... can’t happen again.”Kanye frowned. “Can’t? I think that’s the wrong word.”“No, I mean, really, it can’t.”“No, it can. It happened once, so it CAN happen again. It may not...”“Um, okay, I guess...” Lucille was thrown off-guard by the.
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