Judging from some pictures I’ve seen on Facebook, it is officially prom season. Naturally, this got me to thinking about my own senior prom, which was equal parts crappy and hilarious.
I had no desire to go to the prom. Dresses, makeup–blah. Grandma wasn’t having that, though, so I planned to go. My dad took me prom dress shopping and helped pick out some dresses, which was sweet. He kept picking out expensive ones and I would remind him that I would only wear it once and grab something cheaper. Role reversal, much? 😛
A new guy friend set me up with one of his friends, a guy we will call Dave, who went to another high school. Dave seemed like a nice enough fella, even if he was rather dim. After a couple of dates, Dave asked me if he could go with me to my prom and I said yeah, sure.
The evening of the prom, he tells me he’s having car trouble and that I need to pick him up, as well as the other couple we were going with. Me. Driving. In a dress and heels. Not good. And after I picked him up, he told me that we have to stop by his mom’s work because she wants to meet me. I wondered why, since we weren’t really dating and he was more of a tagalong, but went with it.
This resulted in me walking into the Piggly Wiggly in my prom dress. Awkward. She told me she was so glad her son finally had a nice girlfriend. Double awkward.
Then we picked up our friends and went out for a meal, where I ran into an ex-boyfriend that I was still friends with who told me that he regretted not asking before Dave and he claimed was an ass. I ignored him, thinking he was just being jealous, and then headed to the prom.
I stayed an hour; ex-boyfriend was right.
My girlfriend and I had gone to the bathroom when we walked back up to the guys. My Prince Charming had brought a flask with him and he and the other guy had been drinking. When we approached them, we heard them talking about their plans for the evening rather loudly.
Stay another hour…take the girls to the hotel room…get em drunk…
You can figure the rest out.
So back to the bathroom we went to discuss this. Neither of us had any intention of going to a hotel room, let alone with these guys, so we decided to ditch them, let them find their own way home.
And we did. We went to Sonic in our prom dresses and got hot fudge sundaes. I dropped my friend off at her house and got home very early, well before my 1AM curfew that my dad set, even though he had never given me a curfew before.
My grandma wanted to know why I was home early, so I told her, and she was tickled pink to know that I was still her good girl.
I was in bed by 11:00, but was woken up at 3AM by my dad, who came storming in the house, upset, because he never saw my car lights come up the drive way around 1:00, nor was I answering my phone.
He was raging (in more of an upset dad way, not pissed off dickhead way) at my grandma and was so not hearing her when she tried to tell him I had been home for hours (which she filled me in on after the fact).
I walked out in the middle of this in my PJs, confused as hell. This made him confused as hell, too.
“Where have you been?! It’s three in the morning!”
“Because I was tired.”
“When did you get home?!”
“Around 10:00.” Grandma confirmed this.
“Why did you come home so early?! Teenagers don’t come home early!”
“Because Dave wanted to take me to a hotel, get me drunk, and you know….”
I let that sink in.
“That bastard! I oughta kill him! I knew he was no good!”
“I’m so glad you came home early!” he exclaims, happy as hell and gives me the biggest hug of my life. No, God no, not hugging! And over my virginity, at that!
After he left to go back to his house, my grandmother and I laughed and laughed about my poor dad, who had been sitting in his recliner watching out the window for two hours, stewing.
“You’re probably the only person who ever almost got in trouble for coming home early,” she said.
So….prom stories? Good, bad, funny?