So it's nearing the end of May, and you all know what that means... Prom season! And since I practice the menial tasks I'll most likely be saddled with for life at places where there are a number of high schoolers, I've been hearing a lot about it.
So today I'd like to tell MY prom story. I am bound to get some stuff wrong, and there might be some stuff I have forgotten, but it's actually a night I think I remember pretty well.
So there was this girl and her name was Mel. She was "friends" (no idea why they ever spent time together) with the girl my twin was dating at the time (hope she remembers/reads this). And so Mel and I started dating. It was pretty much a way to spend more time with my brother and his friends since I pretty much never saw him at the time, and dating Mel was actually a good excuse to hang out with him. Plus, boobs. Oh and I may have thought I was madly in love. As it turns out, not so much. (actually, I have been lucky enough to know what that feels like so I can honestly tell the difference)
Now Mel (and my brother and his friends, etc) went to a different high school than I did, and I really wanted nothing to do with my own school at this point, so I couldn't care less about my own school's damn Prom. But Mel's? Well it was a big deal to her, and so it was a big deal to me. I'm a slight romantic idealist at heart and thought nothing would be better than being all dressed up and on a dance floor with the girl I thought I was in love with as a slow ballad played.
Now the second you start making grand expectations about an event is when real life kicks in. The controversy, the drama, the awesome angry sex because your girlfriend is mad at everybody except for you (ish). The biggest thing was the seating arrangements. I shit you not, who sat where caused literally weeks of never ending tears and bitter backhanded comments about friendship. I couldn't have cared less.
My plans consisted of the following:
1) Wear a suit.
2) Fight the urge to make a rude or silly gesture during pictures.
3) Hang out with Jay and Lysee and Mel and take pleasure and amusement at the comments they made about people they didn't like.
4) Dance a little. Dance floor makeouts.
5) Stare at my date's boobs all night (mission accomplished, she looked great in that dress)
6) Get trashed and see what drunken sex was like
As you can see I'm not a real complicated dude.
So the evening came and I have one piece of advice. For fuck's sake get a goddamn corsage for your date. Trust me, she told me not to bother because they were overpriced, but just roses was not enough. I heard about it all fucking night. Even when you get 13 instead of a dozen so you can present one to her mom. Especially when her mom suddenly hates you for stealing her baby's virginity (I didn't).However, the seating arrangement thing was pretty much all Mel wanted to talk about. We ended up at a table with another couple (or 2 maybe?) who she didn't really get along with (everyone was perfectly nice to me) and I had to endure complaining and her making me get up and "wandering" by the table she really wanted to be at. She did keep her arms crossed a whole lot, and that was nice (see #5).
Now Mel was a bit of a drama queen, and with all the Prom kafuffle she had been in fine form for weeks. I actually learned how to nod and agree without actually thinking or even paying attention. It is a skill that has served me in good stead ever since.
But during the dinner when all the class awards were given out and speeches were happening Mel won an award! It was the "most likely to be seen on Jerry Springer award". Everybody laughed and cheered! Yay!
She tried to play it off as no big deal, but damn she was more upset than I had ever seen her. I felt bad and tried to made her feel better, but on the dance floor for the rest of the night she was borderline in tears. I did what I could but she got incredibly bitter. I did my best, even requesting "our song" (don't actually remember what the song was) and going for a big romantic kiss (read: make out session) at the end, but she wasn't having any of it.
I wasn't too worried though. So far my plan was going well. You'd think my date being miserable and pissed would have been a deal breaker, but oddly enough not so much. Not a good sign for the relationship, but I didn't realize that at the time (actually we broke up a few weeks later).
So previously we decided we'd have our Prom after party in our backyard, so Jay and I went and got a whole bunch of Tiki torches and huge outdoor candles and begged/borrowed/stole as many lawn chairs as we could get our hands on. We invited everybody we knew and had a rather good turnout. I had just started working at Metro and was making some great friends and a whole bunch of people showed up. Mostly young women.
So Jay and I were setting up the backyard while our dates were changing, and people started showing up. My friend Liv (hope she reads/remembers this) came and, silly her, forgot to bring plastic cups to mix her drinks with. (actually if you plan a party you should always get some, and ever since I've always remembered to pick some up, life lesson learned there folks). So her and I walked to the convenience store and picked some up, taking the opportunity to have a little chat about how Prom went, since I kinda wanted to complain for a bit.
Well Mel had always been insecure about my friends. Mostly because most of them were young women around my age and, in her words, "too pretty for her to be comfortable with". (in fact, most of my friends are still women and not a single girl I have ever dated has been comfortable with that). So Mel was pissed. She kinda hung out and got all jealous and sat in my lap and did her best to keep her tongue in my mouth all night. I, however, didn't want to bail on all the people I had invited to my backyard, not to mention I was having a good time. So Mel went to bed early and I stayed till the bitter end and had a great time getting wasted with my friends.
I never got to experience drunken sex until years later. Didn't miss out on much.
The funny thing is, despite my date, I remember the night fondly. It was quite the experience, if not the dream fueling romantic fantasy that everyone expects (I find big stereotypical events and expectations rarely are) and I had a good time, if just for the experience. I wondered for weeks afterwards if there was anything I could have done to make the night better (probably), but now it doesn't matter. It was what it was and if I could do it again I doubt I'd do anything different.That's me. I still have the prom picture somewhere, and Mel looks happy and beautiful. Too bad I know better.
SpAmmy
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