By Ken Rickard
Advertiser Staff Writer

I have to admit that I was nervous.

After all, every image I have of high school reunions came from the movies. I could only hope that some kind of wacky hijinks would occur at some point.

However, there were no Romy or Michelle moments. It was quite like any night out at a bar, except it was in a room full of faces that had been blurry memories just hours earlier.

And they became even blurrier as the night went on.

I didn't have many great friends in the Kaiser class of '93. I was a C-average student and a bench athlete — but I had my niche.

People have sworn to me that the 10-year reunion is a fun one. Everyone is still young enough to have a good time, and the people there are usually still filled with exuberance.

They also say the 20-year reunion is where people have gone through their share of life-altering events: divorce, bankruptcy, mortgage and such.

Not a pretty picture.

I always figured that if I were still home when the event rolled around, I would attend. To be honest, it also seemed like a good opportunity for a column.

So there we were, about 100 of us at the Dave and Buster's rooftop bar, ready to reconnect with people we shared our formidable years with, because geography dictated school districts.

I had no agenda. I wasn't seeking out a lost love or harboring an unrequited crush (at least not one that I was willing to admit).

And I hoped no one was holding a grudge against me for my alleged part in a milk-throwing incident.

Two types of people attended the soirée: grownups and the not-so-grown-up.

The people in the first group engaged me in conversation by inquiring about my job. They asked about investments, my future, and said things like "you look good" (the reunion equivalent of the generic yearbook signing, "Stay cool, have a nice summer.")

The people in the latter group held conversations with "Good to see you. You want a shot?"

I was a member of the latter group.

Not that there is anything wrong with not being a grownup at 28. In the past decade, I've had three broken relationships, three jobs that had nothing to do with waiting tables, four cars, two motor-cycles, a college degree and a partridge in a pear tree.

I guess I'm heading toward the edge that will lead into the realm of actual adulthood. I have a "real job," 401(K), car payments and rent. But it was nice to see that some kids I knew had taken that step and thrived.

And also to see that a lot of them were just like me: wanting to have the wisdom of age with an excuse to be impetuous.

It's a bit to take in. The last time I saw most of them, the guys were wearing Z. Cavariccis and the girls were sporting Bongo shorts.

I'm glad I got over my Dawson angst and went to the reunion. I had fun and was happy to see everyone.

So until 2013, I have one more thing to say to all my classmates.

You look great.

Ken Rickard foolishly quoted pro wrestler Ric Flair in his senior yearbook. Reach him at krickard@honoluluadvertiser.com.