“Kiss me, Ketut!”
For those darling readers who are not lucky enough to call Australia home (unbiased as ever, Alex), then you may have missed out on a series of ads by insurance company, AAMI. This absolute gem of a marketing campaign centres on Rhonda (your average safe driver) and Ketut (her Indonesian holiday-fling-turned-beau). If you haven’t had the pleasure of watching the ads yet, please skedaddle over to YouTube. Stat. They’re better than this blog post. Go on! I’ll wait here whilst you watch.
See. I told you they were good.
Anyway. In the most recent installment of Rhonda and Ketut’s blossoming relationship Rhonda attends her high school reunion. She graduated in 1991. What a great year: Rhonda graduated from Year 12, Aung San Suu Kyi was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize and I entered the world. Good stuff all round. It’s not all about you, Alex.
Now, as you may vaguely remember, a few weeks ago I was stressing about my own high school reunion. (You can get up to speed here.) So, how did it go?? And more importantly, how did it measure up in comparison to Rhonda’s?? Well, cuddly koalas, I should fill you in on the remainder of the lead up before diving into The Reunion, itself.
Refresher: when we last left off I was freaking out a bit. Just slightly. The pressure! The expectations! What the expletive have I actually done with the past five years of my life! I don’t have anything to boast about! GAHHH.
Ironically enough, I stressed myself out so much about it in the lead-up that by the time it came to the week of the reunion I couldn’t have cared less about it. Oh, Alex.
Ok, the preamble is over. Now, let’s get cracking and may the best high school reunion attendee win. Not sure what the prize is yet.
1. The Grand Entrance:
Rhonda: Our slightly jittery heroine tottered into her reunion to greet her BFF, Kate. Excitement ensued. Rhonda was quite glammed up, wearing a shimmery gunmetal dress with some peeptoe d’Orsay pumps of the same colour (her “brake-foot bling”) and hair curled to perfection. (PS, Rhonda: hair extensions??)
One day I will learn how to curl my hair like Rhonda.
Alex: Although I was chilled out about the reunion I still ended up running around like a headless chicken on the actual afternoon/evening due to a series of crazy logistics. In summary: I arrived a fashionably flustered 57 minutes into the two hour shindig.. and after talking to a handful of people, I made a bee-line for the bar. Priorities. My get up consisted of jeans, a top and some much-loved (read: old) heels. Plus the non-event of my semi-air-dried, already-going-flat hair. Woot. I’ve always been fairly hopeless at anything hair-related that extends beyond washing and brushing said mane.
Winner Round 1: Rhonda. (For the GHD mastery and brake-foot bling.)
2. The People You Would Rather Forget and Never See Again:
Look, I would love to make a Mean Girls reference right about now, but I think I’ve maxed out on my quota for October already. Apologies.
Rhonda: The poor thing had to encounter not one, but two b!tchcakes* in the form of Kylie and Danni. (Minogue reference much, AAMI?) Some people really don’t get over their school days, do they? And I guess this was what my reunion worst nightmare consisted of (with a touch less melodrama).. B!tchcake No. 1 and No. 2 at your service!
Alex: I am delighted to report back that I, well, actually really enjoyed the reunion after all. Zing! Although the catching up was generally kept to a superficial level (“So, what are you up to these days?” being the predictable catchphrase of the evening), it was really lovely to see people. Everyone seemed really happy to be there and it felt surprisingly warm and genuine. In addition to this I didn’t encounter any b!tchcakes! (This could partly be due to the lack of b!tchcakes present.. from a grade which had very few to begin with..) And interestingly enough, the vast majority of people are still at uni and yet to get big kid jobs, too. See, you really didn’t have anything to worry about, you fruitcake.
Winner Round 2: Me! (For the lack of b!tchcakes.)
3. The Gents:
Ahh, the gents. It wouldn’t really be an Alex blog post without at least one reference to the comedy of errors that is my love life, would it?
Rhonda: OMG. Drama, peeps! Well, firstly Kylie and Danni make a gibe at Ketut suggesting that he’s “kaput”. Naww. Poor, Rhonda. But before Rhonda’s eyes well up over her absent Indonesian cocktail connoisseur Trent Toogood (aka The School Hottie, 1991) sidles on up to our safe driving heroine. Leaning in for a peck on the cheek, Rhonda slips, smearing lipstick all over her cheek, but Trent just grins as he wipes it off before leading her to the dance floor. #smitten.
Then! The ad finishes with Ketut arriving at the reunion, bouquet in arm, to meet an empty school hall strewn with ripped streamers and empty disposable cups being tended to by a middle-aged cleaner. NOOO!! KETUT!!!!!!!!!!
The High School Hottie or the hot Balinese Loveboat. Tough choice, Rhonda.
Alex: Well, although my night panned out somewhat differently to Rhonda’s I still got my fair dose of drama. Unwanted drama, mind you. I really would have been quite fine without it.
So, after we were ushered off school property we all decided to continue on at a local bar. Fun and alcohol all round. What on earth could go wrong? In short, a guy who I had only recently met was texting me during the evening. (NB: A different guy to Hot Muso, for those who’ve read some of my recent posts.) And being non-sober I was a dingus enough to disclose my location to him. He wanted to meet up, but I didn’t want to see him, so I declined his invitation to rendez-vous later on. But some gents think that ‘No’ is a special chick code word for ‘Yes! Please! I WANT YOU! NOW!’ So, guess whose face I spotted over my friend’s shoulder 15 minutes later? Oh, yes, I did. Expletive! Oh, my expletive lord! What the expletive hell am I meant to do?!?!
Cue: squealing in the bathroom with my close friend. Well, I was squealing and she was just smiling with a raised eyebrow whilst laughing and shaking her head in a ‘you-really-are-a-special-case’ kinda way.
Thankfully, I was able to successfully get rid of the rather persistent rapscallion with some moral support from some friends. Thanks, guys. You know who you are. As it turns out he ended up being quite a creep (read: it eventually got to the stage where I politely told him I was extremely close to dropping the police a line). Phew. Close shave.
Winner Round 3: Rhonda, hands down. (Because two comparably great gents vying for you is far better than one really dodgy one.)
Rhonda and Ketut in better times: “You look so hot today, Rhonda – like a sunrise” – Ketut.
Despite the fact that Rhonda came away as the winner of the three rounds and I came away from my reunion with a stalker-in-the-making (bless!), I actually think that I had a far better reunion experience than our favourite safe driver.
My reunion was infinitely better than I had anticipated – and not just because I had anticipated the worst, nor just because of the novelty of free alcohol on school property (although we all know that that was what sealed the deal for me). No, rather, I was surprised by just how enjoyable it was to catch up with my old school friends and teachers, so much so that I wouldn’t have minded arriving a bit earlier after all.. What made this all even better was how refreshingly judgement-free the evening was.
So, basically that was a convoluted way of saying that I was a bit of an idiot and I should probably not stress out about hypotheticals going forward, right? Hmm.
Thus, I’m surprised to say it, but I’m actually kinda looking forward to our 10 year reunion. I’m sure there will be marriages, kids, mortgages and actual careers to talk about by that time. Until then, I’ll just continue to keep my eye out for someone who likes wearing turbans and is happy to deliver me cocktails whilst I bask on the beach in Bali. Should be a cinch.
PS: #TeamTrent or #TeamKetut?
* Yeah, I made that one up all by myself. So proud.