The Graduation Party

A little over a decade ago, I was at a college graduation for a friend of mine that I had known for a while. Meeting members of her family, I had my eye drawn to one of her cousins. I thought that she might be young, but I was surprised to learn she was only 18. Talking with her and my friend, I found out that she was the same cousin that accompanied us to a Cure concert in 1987. I was shocked because she bared no resemblance to the 13 year girl that I remembered from back then. Obviously my baldness gave a her a similar problem.

“No, you didn’t go with us,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“Yes I did, “ I said, ”Disintegration tour, Cap Centre.”
“That’s the show, but it wasn’t you. There was Mike, there was Cess there was Pete.”
“Yes, Pete. I’m Pete.”
“No this Pete had,” she put her hands flat 8 inches over her scalp to signify the empire of hair I once. Short back and sides with a longish moppy mushroom up top is how I wore it when I wore a younger man’s hair. But those days were gone.

I was that Pete alright, that show was the beginning of the end of my –screwed up-relationship with my Cessi, my ex-fiancée. I had made a mistake of saying that Cindy Crawford looked awesome on the cover of the new Cosmo, and she was very upset about it. She was never shy about saying who she was attracted to who was not me, but the fact that this was the first time I had said something about someone that wasn’t her justified her hurt. At the show, she pointed to a girl sitting behind us asking me, “Isn’t she pretty?”
“Sure,” I shrugged and I swear I never looked at her again, not wanting to exacerbate our situation. After the show, she sulked the 3 hour drive home saying that I had stared at that girl all night. My protests to the contrary were negated by Mike, who said he noticed the same thing. Did I mention that she cheated on me with Mike most of the time we were together? It wasn’t my last dysfunctional relationship, alas, but it did set a pretty high standard for me.

I didn’t unload this part of the story for her, this is just for you (you’re welcome!), but this memory added to my frustration dealing with her disbelief that I wasn’t present at such a significant moment in my life.

“You know, you’re about 6 inches taller than you were then, but I still believe it’s you!”