What Not to do : Prom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is my recollection of what happened on that most infamous of days back in high school. Prom is something that most people dread. Girls have it completely planned out, dress paid for and plans made by early thier freshman year of middle school, while guys kind of stumble across the reality that "oh shit, is that next week?".
well with pressure on, this was how i responded to that horrible event. luckily i wrote this as it happened because i seemed to have selectivly blacked it out of my memory. the names and dates have been changed because frankly, she still hates me (in her defense, for other reasons). but yeah. hope others out there can get some humor from this story because thats definatly the best thing that came from this transaction, and one day when we are parents ourselves, put our kids in private school.

Submitted: March 19, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 19, 2008

A A A

A A A


What not to do or one good reason to follow an action with suicide.
I fucked up.
?? You ask. Well its simple, I fucked up. I asked someone to prom, and I couldn’t have been more nervous or lame. Especially lame and weak. Those are two good words. Some times you don’t know people well enough to date them, but some people can be intriguing. Some people can spark an interest long before you exchange words. Well, Jessica raised an eyebrow, mine to be exact.
 I asked her person to prom. Very unprofessionally, at the lunch lines, at break, from a distance of four feet, between random hungry students, in such an unromantic fashion, it would have sucked even if it was a mute's triumph over his disability to sweep the feet of his true love.
See that last part was romantic, but even in those pre-stated conditions, it would have sucked. But alas, please note that I am a very shy guy. I really can't emphasize this enough. Shy and lame, with a touch of stupidity just to keep things honest.
So here’s the setting, I talked to her via Myspace in the days previous on several separate occasions, even until like 1am on Sunday night. So Monday I get to school, slightly anxious, kind of hopeful. But mostly just in moods where my normal personalities were overtaken by the gutsier one. Oh and worried, that was my normal personalities 2 cents worth. So at break, after ending several mental arguments with the same ideas that, in years past, lead me to riding a shopping cart down a mile long 8% grade street, I just wanted to ask her and be free of the burden of worry, to ask and get it over with…

I forgot you girls don’t work like that.

I watch as Jessica’s group of friends across the lunch table head for the lunch lines for food, and I quickly convince my group of friends to embark on a similar expedition masked as the attempt to acquire ediblities. I felt like a stalker, watching but not wanting to be seen, fully camouflaged in my group of half a dozen friends, while wearing black and red against the purely white cement. But two minutes later, we stood feet apart in line, between the black midget guy (John calls him "niglet") and some Asian people, surprisingly lacking their camera’s today. She and her friend retreat from the line, and wait for their fellows to finish buying their food, so I, seeing somewhat of an opportunity because break was seconds from ending, approached her and froze. 
This of coarse was my second big mistake, the first being born. And as I begin to slowly open my mouth, I saw a small look of shock on hers, I only assume the reason she didn’t look too dumb at the time was because she was in the company of a stuttering, sweating, weirdly dressed, awkward looking guy that could have really used a hug. I’m pretty sure she knew it was coming too. But my mouth was already half way open, no backing out now…

SHIT, all those planned words, I didn’t factor in the lack of seclusion, the lack of my group as a security blanket, her best friend somewhat staring me down, or Niglet walking between us. But I started all the same;

"Jessica… I’ve got a question for you..." (Voice dropping low)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is a complete record of all the thoughts going through my head at the time, as told by the perspective personalities representing them. Please note that the total elapsed time between the previous real-life statement, and its conclusion is only 1.6 seconds apart:

<Personality 1> “BAIL!!! ABORT, ABORT, RUN! YOU STILL GOT TIME!”
<Personality 2> “What? Stop now and look like an idiot?”
<Personality 1> “THATS HOW YOU LOOK, JUST POINT AT A DISTANT CORNER, SAY 'look a distraction' AND FUCKING SPRINT INTO A RANDOM NON-SPECIFIED DIRECTION.”
<Personality 2> “you’re so fucking stupid”
<Personality 1> “you’re so fucking stupid”
<Personality 2> “then what? Try again tomorrow? You jackass, I don’t want to lose my edge.”
<Personality 1> “WHAT?? WHAT EDGE?”
<Personality 2> “…shut up”
<Personality 3> “Fuck, dudes she's still standing there, and you are mid-sentence, SPEAK!!”
<Personality 1&2> “Fuckberries!”
<Personality 1> “I’m outta here”
<Personality 2> “I win”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"you wanna go to prom with me?"

<Personality 1,2, &3> “you stupid ass”

GOD it couldn’t have been worse, Niglet even looked at me like, "you biggity-Bitch"

There was a pause, then a look, then more pause, then a jaw dropping, followed by sweet, sweet awkward silence. And I can only imagine this was a very similar sensation shared only with citizens of Iraq during our “shock and awe” campaign. Time passed, bells rang, people were early and late to class, and I had time to make a few phone calls as she stood there compromising her standards. The machinery was loud in my opinion because anyone within a square block could hear those gears in her head turning, and after she settled on the result that I expected an answer, she grabbed her friends and formed a committee.
 I couldn’t tell what was being said from outside the circle of girls but I distinctly remember shouts, some blows were exchanged, there was some hysteric laughter, Jessica might have been crying, but when the jury delivered, the answer was a conditional yes. Witnesses say the response hit me a few ways depending on whom you would ask but I believe I’ve sorted the truth from fiction.
 She turned and all was quiet and she said “yes…” and it was a mental victory there as personality 2 hacked personality 1 into small pieces with a machete, then she finished her sentence. Personality 1 immediately pieced itself back together and launched a counterattack featuring chainsaw. And as she said a few different things I heard and nodded to the words as my insides saw that the dictator mind had been removed and the peon organs and physical stuff revolted, hoping to gain control before the dictator could come back. There was feelings of nausea, of organs eating each other, I distinctly remember being stabbed a few million times in the upper left chest, immediately followed by a punch to the gut.
 But the answer was yes, and although its what I wanted, it wasn’t what I wanted. I still walked away a little cold, probably from the wind passing my sweaty hands, and unsatisfied. We separated and the crowd dispersed, Jessica and friends went one way, and I turned my back and went the other. I didn’t go back to class that day, and the school guards kind of let me drive out. But I should have known there that there would be no love, there would be no hugs. That empty feeling was me and a ‘yes’ like that would have felt better a ‘no’. But if I hadn’t done it, if I hadn’t asked, if personality 1 had taken control then I would have never found out. And a mistake of this proportion was necessary to make, because this time id never ask myself “what if”.

 But seriously, Fuck prom.


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