Too drunk from the evening before graduation when we all played Family Feud and Brian pretended to be Richard Dawson in an effort to kiss all of our female friends, Brian slept through commencement. While Brian snoozed, his proud parents looked at each passing student at the Indiana University football stadium hoping to catch a glimpse of their son. My dad somehow spotted me among the thousands of other caps and gowns so I'm sure Brian's parents wondered where their son was. Moments before our respective families arrived for the reception at our apartment, Brian frantically barreled toward me asking what the commence address was about -- just in case his parents asked about it. While I shared my thoughts with him, I noticed his gown was on inside-out. Should I tell him, I wondered. Eventually, I did -- but part of me wanted his parents to question why he looked so disheveled.
A few weeks after graduation, we all lost contact with Brian. I assumed he accepted one of the numerous job offers extended his way and moved to Chicago. He never returned to clean out his bedroom -- which was a garage converted into a bedroom. On moving day, my roommates threw all of his forgotten items away -- including a pair of tighty-whitey underpants that had mushrooms growing out of them.
A few months later, I emailed Brian hoping to hear that he was okay and working. I never received a response. It wasn't until our 10-year high school graduation when I learned karma finally caught up with Brian -- apparently he flunked his senior year of college and didn't actually graduate for another five years (!). How he managed to be on the nine-year plan still baffles me today. In fact, I still wonder what became of Brian and hope he's doing ok...