Sluts, Reminiscing

I went to a high school reunion tonight. We went to an avante-garde type school, very small, academic, eclectic. The reunion felt a bit more like a dinner party - which it was - than a meeting between a bunch of young people who had so much promise. I suppose that's the stereotypical reaction. Once my friends and I left, though, it was quite fun to reminisce about absurd liasons and folktales regarding penis size. Is there anything more compelling than a second-hand story about an old friend's habits with his old friend, so to speak? Fortunately, we had a male to consult, who clarified the situation somewhat.

It reminded me of the time when I asked a high school boy, sort of on a dare - because we all were wondering - where a guy puts his penis when it's not in use. Did he wrap it up? Push it down? We were on a school trip in the country. The boy I questioned was very open and relaxed about such matters. Still, I got a muffled response. Later,my friends and I walked up the big hill and saw a group of smiling boys. They called over with different explanations of where they put their dicks. We all laughed about it. That was the kind of intellectual interaction that took place, and noticeably, without any malevolence or repercussions.

Anyway, some of the best people at the reunion are my friends already. And others seemed like distant photos, barely catching my interest. I wonder why people are driven to reunite, even knowing that it'a a brief encounter? I wonder why women so quickly gravitate toward the subject of the guy with the tiny penis and the guy with the huge one? It's questions like these that are the hallmark of a prep school graduate. (Or perhaps life in early academia is different now.) Our experience could be called budding scholar/ practicing slut; or budding slut/practicing scholar. Either way, the study of the penis was an essential element.