I traveled alone and arrived at the hotel named in the reunion information and on the date that was listed. But no one from my high school was at the hotel, none of the planned activities were to be found, and no one who worked at the hotel knew what I was talking about when I asked them about my high-school reunion. Of course I was furious. All that way and nothing, and I'd been fool enough to think the reunion could help me deal with the life I'd endured in high school. I thought of calling my wife, but I knew she'd want me to come back home. My way of looking at it was that I had no intention of letting my former classmates ruin one more day of my life. I made up my mind to stay the weekend in the hotel. I had a few drinks and a couple of good dinners and spent the day roaming the streets and sitting in the park relaxing and muttering angrily to myself only occasionally.