When it's only 7:30pm and your date is in the parking lot in nothing but his socks and his underwear, you know it's going to be a great night.
Chris and I went to our 10 year high school reunion last weekend.
We spent the first night having drinks with 80 of our closest classmates at Life's a Beach in Flower Mound.
Two guys looked to be having a bad acid trip, one mom of two was stoned, and everyone else was happily drunk.
It's a nerve-racking thing to walk into a room full of nearly 100 people that you haven't seen in nearly 100 years.
I myself had 3 margaritas.
Everyone looked great. Everyone was nice. Chris and I had fun surprising old friends with news of our engagement.
We spent the better part of Saturday morning trying to process everything. Who was where and doing what, and who probably went home with whom.
We did some last minute shopping for clothes Saturday and Chris picked up his dry cleaning. I got my fake tan sprayed on and had my favorite stylist James do my hair.
In honor of the 1997-ishness of the whole weekend we opted to play some Super Mario Bros. 3 in lieu of watching Tivo or doing anything even somewhat related to 2007.
Taking our time to get ready and chatting about who we were anxious to see and who we wanted to avoid, Chris realized the dry cleaner had given him the wrong pair of pants. Instead of the grey slacks he had bought the day before, the dry cleaner had given him some black khaki's he had bought 9 years before.
In the spirit of the evening he put them on and tried to make them work.
Unfortunately for Chris, the pants landed right above his ankles.
The dry cleaners was then, of course, closed and our only options were to go buy even more pants, wear 1998 pants, or dress in jeans.
Feeling the pressure of the evening, we jumped in the car and started searching for someone who would sell us men's pants at 8pm on a Saturday.
For anyone counting, Kohl's is open until 10.
We ran inside, located the grey slacks, paid and left.
At this point I had on my fancy dress and Reef flip-flops. No way was I running through a Kohl's in my high heels.
Chris proceeded to undress in the parking lot, and get ready using the rear view mirror of the Pontiac Sunfire parked next to us.
And we were off.
The night went off without a hitch.
The small talk didn't feel small. The mood was happy and excited. The graduates looked great, and no one threw any punches or passed out on the dance floor.
Everything felt very natural and sincere. Everyone was proud to tell the truth about what they're doing and who they're with.
But then again, who knows?
How many other people were in flip flops and a fancy dress or half-naked in a Kohl's parking lot 20 min. before arriving?
These are the things I want to know at the 20 year.