My fiftieth high school reunion had been scheduled for October. My long time friend and classmate were in charge of the entertainment segment of the program.

"We're going to pretend we're two old former classmates who bump into each other at the grocery store," I explained to my husband.

"What do you mean, pretend? You are two old ladies," he said, and laughed.
"Oh, hush," I brushed his remark off.

Because my friend lived in Arizona, we emailed scripts back and forth and talked for hours over the phone. We laughed and giggled as the plot of our story grew more and more ridiculous.

I stopped at the Goodwill store to select the worst old ladies dress I could find and hopefully a white wig. I finally located an orange and yellow-flowered dress about three sizes too large for me.
I also found a walker, and bought my friend a cane. There was one dilapidated grey wig stuffed in the corner of a shelf and I grabbed it.

I was in the check out lane with my new duds when the lady behind me cast an eye on my selections and remarked, "What a beautiful dress."

Huh? Was she serious?

The reunion was held at a restaurant in our home town. There was a good turn out and even the kitchen help had gotten word of the two crazy ladies who were performing a once in a life time theatrical episode. When the time came the manager and staff stood in the back to watch.

It went off without a hitch. Laughter, clapping and cameras flashing. The two of us were having the time of our lives.

However, there was one surprise I had saved for my friend. She had lived on a farm and I spent many week-ends with her and her family. One morning she teasingly threw a glass of water on me, then took off running. I grabbed a pitcher of water and chased her out the door and into a field of full grown corn. I searched for an hour in the heat and finally gave up. She never let me forget her victory.

At the final ending of our skit, I pulled my friend aside, and asked, "Do you remember that glass of water you threw on me?" She eyed me cautiously before she answered. "Yeah," she drawled. I withdrew a squirt gun from my pocket and let her have it. "Well, it's payback time, baby cakes."

She screamed and ran off the stage. Needless to say, we received a standing ovation.

We haven't decided what we will do for our next reunion, Maybe we could "pretend" to bump into each other at a nursing home.

Learn more about this author, Carol Gustke.
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