My 15-year class reunion is coming up in two weeks. I’m one of the members of the six-person committee. It’s been a train wreck. We’re trying to do everything fast, but it’s all moving at a snail’s pace. We’re trying to do it on the super cheap, but we can’t avoid costs like name tags and room rental.
BFF and I have feverishly been tracking down classmates, but thus far, only about a dozen of my 170 classmates have agreed to attend.
I know. I’ve actually been dreaming about this stupid reunion. It’s going to be lame and there’s nothing I can do about it.
One classmate has been hounding BFF for the better part of a year about this reunion. Let’s call this classmate Sandra.
Sandra is a bit hard. Her MySpace complains about how she and her (older?) husband aren’t allowed to see their grandkids.
We’re 33? You have grandkids? Plural?
Anyway. Word on the street is that Sandra did a bit of time for using her employer’s money for her own purposes. I believe it’s called embezzlement. Not judging, just providing background.
So, Sandra has been all crazy gung ho about this reunion for a year. And we couldn’t figure out why, of all people, she hadn’t RSVPed. But finally, our prayers were answered and she replied to the Evite.
“We might come but won’t pay $18!”
I wanted to beat my head against my desk. And then I decided that no, what I’d really like to do is reply, “That’s ok, Sandra. We all know how you are with money.”