Name: Susie
Prom Night ~ A Horror Story
Checking in on Wednesday for motif Monday (and that's only possible because enough of my clients cancelled tonight!) with my "worst date" story. Hands-down, no brainer, it was the Junior Prom.
In my junior year, I went to the prom with a senior named David. He and I had had a couple of dates throughout the year, and had sporadic, somewhat intense "crushes" on each other, although the timing of these crushes was never mutual. I remember David as extremely intelligent, breezed through physics and calculus and such. I recently came across our prom picture. I swear I'd show you if I could, but it's so dark that photographing it wouldn't work, and I'm scannerless at the moment. I promise I'll deliver as soon as the technology is available. David wore a light brown or tan or beigey sort of tux. He had brown hair and a sort of a fu-man-chu facial thing going on. I thought I was ALL that because my friend Liz and I had decided to be unconventional and buy our dresses at a thrift store. It was a peach chiffon gown with a matching shawl/wrap that tied under the bust. In the photograph, it looks like I'd been caught in a downpour, although I don't recall the weather that night. Oh, completing my $3 ensemble was a large white hat. Shut up, it was 1977! I must wonder, in retrospect, if the outfit had its own karma that guided the night's events. (And, I might add, Liz chickened out and did not actually wear her thrift store purchase, but borrowed my prom dress from the previous year.)
The prom itself was OK, as I recall. I loved to dance, so probably had a good time. The best part, I'm sure, was near the end of the prom, when David proclaimed that he was going to give me the moon (because I know my blogging audience, I KNOW where you are going with that, but STOP, it wasn't like that). There was a large -- 5 or 6' tall -- plywood quarter moon suspended from the ceiling of the high school gym, part of the evening's decoration. David and a couple of his friends hung from the moon, swinging until the invisible wires released it, and then David presented it to me. It was orange with gold glitter (the '70s, remember?), and I loved it. I thought this was about the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. Some boys helped David put it in his pale blue Mustang, and we left for the after-prom party at another boys' house.
At the party, David disappeared. This didn't bother me, particularly, because I knew lots of people there, and I stayed busy and entertained. Toward the wee hours of the morning, one of David's friends, Neal, found me and said that he brought a message and an apology from David who apparently remained somewhere in the mysterious deep bowels of the house. It seemed that David was too "messed up" to drive me home. I don't know whether David was drunk, or drugged, or both, but I was furious. Definitely a woman scorned. Truthfully, and at the risk of sounding lacking in humility, I was not lacking for boyfriends and I was stunned that this *#%^#$ would put me in that position. I remember thinking, "Who does he think he's dealing with?" and, ever the lover of words, "Hey, this must be what 'incredulous' feels like!"
I told my best male friend, whom we'll call Prince (because that makes me laugh right now), what was happening. He immediately offered to take me home. And by immediately, I mean without consulting his date, my friend, Liz. Let's just say, Liz was not pleased. She had plans for Prince, and they didn't include me and my moon. I have, over the years, been increasingly appreciative of Prince's chivalry. Liz had a big crush on Prince, and Liz was known to . . . act on her crushes. The more I know about adolescent boys, the more I appreciate Prince's sacrifice of that night.
As we prepared to leave the party, I asked Neal to take me to David, which he did. I demanded of David, angrily, "Give me your keys!" He seemed touched, flattered at what he thought was my concern for his welfare. "It's OK," he slurred, "I'm not going to drive like this."
I retorted, "I don't care whether you drive or not! GIVE ME YOUR KEYS SO I CAN GET MY MOON!!!!" He seemed to sober quickly and handed me his car keys.
Prince and I loaded the moon into his car, partly in the back seat, partly protruding from the hatchback ('70s, remember). Liz refused to sit up front with Prince. She sat in the back with the moon and acted like a martyr. I felt horrible for ruining their date, but very thankful for Prince's friendship.
That moon hung over my bed for a couple of years, often dusting my hair or skin with gold glitter, which I didn't bother to remove, because I thought that was kind of cool. Liz eventually forgave me. I don't think I dated David any more. I did date his best friend.
posted by Susie | 5:37 PM
31 heads are better than one . . .
You were quite the crazy high school chica, it seems! (And how cool to be able to say, "moon dust" when people inquired about your sparkly skin!)
(Word Verification: dnrhnq. Your date was definitely DNR)
It was probably very fascinating when, later on, moon was turned into a gerund that you could do from the back seat of your car.
Hahaha - love your 70's flashback! Oh and prom is da bomb. Word.
ern, you know '70s me too well, I would absolutely have claimed "moondust." Now that I'm a senior citizen, I'd be concerned about the falling glitter scratching my corneas.
hoss, so true. By then, my moon had hung out of a hatchback all over the county :)
hanni, hi, and welcome to my flashback :)
Oh, Susie, I'm so sorry...
Even my gay prom date spent the entire evening in my presence. ;)
and, ever the lover of words, "Hey, this must be what 'incredulous' feels like!"
That made me giggle.
And I have to comment once more to remark that the verification word this time is tbome.
Are you telling me to get a steak?
bucky, you know, David would have been a lot more fun, gay, now that you mention it. And absolutely, have a T-bome!
So you are saying you were not over the moon for the guy?
*gag*
Susie, how could any asshole of a guy not be able to dote on you throughout the entire date? I'm glad you took your moon and got the hell out of there.
There were way too many set-ups for jokes in this post.
Thrift store prom dress and a Hat? You must please please please get a scanner for this picture and post it.
Fu MAn CHu thing going on. You must Please please please get a scanner for this picture and post it.
You paint a great picture.
this was fun to read,thanx.
my word verification must been at your prom: djplyom
Um, I was 3 in 1977. And Nick hadn't been born yet.
Anyone want to slap me?
To me, that's not a bad date at all. Just the fact that you got to go to the prom, let alone an after party, without being deemed a heathen is GREAT! I recently went to a concert that wasn't featuring a gospel artist, and my mom reminded me that Jesus could have come down right in the middle of the concert, and that consequently I'd be going to hell.
Yeah.
kranki, oh, that's BAD ;) I'm still stuck on Mr. Alleged Schlong going into da club without you. NO freakin' WAY!
squirl, see, you totally get it. How could he?!! Ah, well, as is often the case, I got a better story out of it than if things had gone well. Good thing I'm someone who appreciates life's stories. Recently, checking the hometown newspaper, I saw that his father had died. On the site, you can leave an email condolence, and I did so. He did not acknowledge, though.
william, I will. I'll try to get hooked up this weekend. I mean, you know, electronically. Scanner, that is :0
dawn, Plyom WAS the DJ! Spooky . . .
mrtl, I am happy to inspire you to song. You have no idea, I was probably the first in a long line of those who enabled Liz, sadly. Funny thing, I had forgotten that she didn't wear her thrift store dress until Prince sent me a copy of their prom photo last Spring, and I was all, "MY DRESS! I loved that dress!" I don't think she gave it back. And while it's true that my thigh probably couldn't even fit in it now, that's so not the point.
JR, yea, yea, I could be your unwed mother. I still bet I had more fun in 1977 than you did. I'll take a bad prom date over Barney any day.
Oh, Damon, I know what you mean. I used to agonize over such things. I remember a friend telling me, re: places to go, "If Jesus came back while you were there, would you want Him to have to come in there and get you?" Well, that can put a damper on a girl's evening. However, by those standards, I'd never go to the bathroom! It is important for those of us "wearing" His name to be careful where we go, and even more important to be careful what we do. However, we have to keep going back to the Book. Look where He went, who He stopped to talk to. Somehow Jesus was not as exclusive as some of His followers today are.
Sounds like quite a interesting night. I'm glad you had a good friend to take you home. What an idiot.
I'll smack Jess if you don't want to - first, because I got MARRIED in 1977, and she would have been too young to be the FLOWER GIRL. But also because, well, it would be fun.
I loved this story, as I love all your stories ...
Well, in 1977 I coulda been Nilbo's flower girl...or Susie's pesky, annoying little sister...or...Jess' babysitter.
Okay, this comment started out to make myself feel better and less old, and I think it just backfired on me.
Aw, crap.
lawbrat, yea, Prince was a good friend, back in the day. And David, well, I think he went on to have bigger troubles.
nilbo, OK, you have my smacking proxy ;) Thank you, and while you're "here," may I say, I was just roaming blogworld and thought to myself as I saw some of your comments, "That Nilbo is one eloquent mofo."
bucky, Yea, don't think too much about that. Fact is, we're older than most bloggers, that is just the truth. We kick ass on the 70s and 80s music trivia, though ;)
That's hilarious. I love the dress/shawl description.
I can't wait to see the picture . . . oh, wait I was a junior in 1977. I bet if I close my eyes, I can get a mental picture. :)
Loved the story!
After reading the comments I'm not feeling so good...
In 1977 I had a 6 year old daughter and 1 year old son!
I think I'd better get my walker and head off to take a nap.
Um we didnt have Barney in 77, I liked the Electric Company though.. and The Muppets.
Its ok though, remember my son recently asked me what it was like to "of lived through the 80's"
And Nilbo, you can try to catch me to smack me, but im sneaky and will prolly get you and pinch you first...
You say that as if it's a bad thing ...
So what is it with you and people leaving you places?? First the restaurant and now this? ;) Sounds like "Prince" really was charming. Good friends are gold!
I love that story....you can't be too mad at David, for he said he'd get you the moon, and he did....and I think it is so funny when you went to find him and ask for his keys, and he thought you didn't want him to drive, and all you wanted was your moon.....Certain words make me want to burst out in song...."When the moon comes over the mountain" I don't know if the words are correct, but thats what I'm singing right now...lol Great Post
you know i love you. you KNOW i do. but THAT'S your worst date? okay, that's it. i'm flying down to meet you and i will show you a truly miserable time. think 'Carrie' meets 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' (the 70s, remember?)
sfg, it's all really pretty awful, which hopefully I'll be able to show you all. Plus I look like something out of a horror movie in the pic, eyes open way too wide, forced smile . . . ugh
nina, use your imagination and then make it a little worse . . . there, you got it ;)
alcatone, I know. I think the hat had peach flowers or a peach ribbon around it. A fashion crime.
sierrabella, yea, but who gets the good discounts, huh?
JR, do you remember "and what about Naomi?"
nilbo, well, you're not always an eloquent mofo.
eclectic, are you saying there's a pattern here? Should I add "abandonment issues" to all my other issues?
judy, thank you; I am always happy to inspire someone to song :)
brando, believe it or not, I was thinking this very thing, today. I was thinking, "I'll bet Brando could show me a truly miserable time." No, seriously, I was thinking how, as bad dates go, I've been very lucky. This was the worst, with its only competition being the guy who fell asleep. I really shouldn't complain, I had a relatively painless dating life.
Oh, yes, I am. My "You say that as if it's a bad thing ..." was directed at Jess's comment above mine ...
nilbo, I know, I know, I'm just playing with you, and laughing at you. Seriously, I am LOL. Although perhaps "seriously" isn't the right word, see, I don't have your command of the language . . .
You've got good language dexterity. Your story actually made me imagine the prom quite vividly; it was as though I was present. Authentic!!
You've got good language dexterity. Your story actually made me imagine the prom quite vividly; it was as though I was present. Authentic!!
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