I was a pretty quiet guy, I let my actions speak for me for the most part. They usually were attempted solely for my humor and to hang on to any degree of sanity I possibly could. I won't lie. My senior year of high school was pretty fun. As long as I was the one supplying the fun for myself. Setting up to look like a spectacle wasn't a consideration. It became a job. It just diverted me from certain issues in life.

I never really did go to any high school dances, or parties. I disliked most of those people. But, I guess the fact set in that maybe it would be nice to go to the Senior Prom. Depending on how you choose to look back on events, I guess my prom was good. Understand I'm just building up the suspense with subplots that should be sharply ignored.

Turns out, like most other classmates, I attended the prom. Got a tux. A date. The parents provided the transporation for this evening because they rented the vehicle in full and didn't want to risk handing the keys off to any other people. Plus, they know the area in Newport, and so on. Now that you know a little of the surroundings of the prom. You're probably wondering who I went with, how'd this come about.

I asked a couple of girls that I had been friendly with. One already had a date, and the other said she didn't want to go. I'll admit, my ego was pretty hurt. Feelings, ego, same damn thing. So, these two girls I was friendly with in high school [pay attention to the reference of tense], they asked me about the prom, if I was going, etc etc. I had been to a party once with one of the girls. We'll name her Jess. Why ? Because that's her name. Anyway, Jess, and an unnamed friend prodded me, pushed and tugged at me to give a call to my eventual prom date. We'll call her Amanda. Yes, because that's her name. So, the first time I give her a call, I made it brief. Asked her about going, she agreed. What I was getting myself into, I don't know. So, the night before payments are due for tickets I call her back just to check that she still is going with me, and she's crying about something so I ask "What's wrong?" and she tells me she'll call me back later. Well, what made me pissed off is that it was 1015 at night. It's not like I pull all nighters and then got splashed in the face with a bucket full of cold water as a remedy to beat the sleep.

This Friday morning arrives, exactly one week before the prom. So I'm left unsure if she is even going. My patience was deflated like ... like something that was deflated. I go off to school with a check from Mom to purchase this ticket, and I have no idea if I'm even going. When I arrived at school that morning, I made no secret of my irritance at these girls setting me up with Amanda. I told them it was nice of them to find me a date, but I couldn't talk to them because I thought I had a date, and then she flips out the night before. Oh, how soothing. That's when I ended up asking the two girls, who one already had a date, and the other didn't want to go. So, my self esteem reached the minus level about this point in time.

As school came to a close, I decided I wasn't going to get the tickets. And I had good reason. I found out that they extended the deadline til two days before the prom. So, I waited patiently in hopes I may come to my sense and have a change of heart on this event. When the school day was done Friday, I left with my friend, and I headed home. I depressed myself through the day trying to find "another" date to fill in for the headache I'd locked myself up with at the time. When I get home, there's a message on the answering machine from her, she seemed to be apologizing. I was assuming that she'd done this because I bitched at HER friends for setting me up with her. So, I listened to the message. I immediately called back because I am a nice guy. It was settled that after a few minutes of talking, that she was still going.

Out of pity ? Who knows. But as the weekend passed by, I think i called her again. What struck me as being bizarre about my date was I'd only talked to her briefly[like ten minutes] at the party I met her at. I met alot of people. I'm not sure what made these girls choose Amanda, or recommend her for me as a date, but, they did.

On Monday, I end up buying a ticket. $75. Seventy five. However you say it, that's fucking expensive. But, at least it wasn't my money. And the tux wasn't even rented with my money. Nor the vehicle. Same goes for the flowers. Basically the amount of fun I had at the prom would match the cost of all. Anyway, when I went to the office to give the check for the ticket, I found the sheet to sign up for table reservations. Like you could specify which table you'd want to sit at. The one with Jess was the most favorable[for my date, anyhow]. I'm not homophobic, but we had two gay kids at my table. Another couple I didn't like. So, overall, I *finally* had a date, and prom was shaping up to be pretty shitty.

Friday rolls around, I believe I went out that day with my mom[we got out of school early if you were going to the prom]. We went to pick up my tux. It was all my doing. Earlier in the week when I knew I was going, I had wanted white all along. My mom and the employee tried different variations. Black jacket with a white shirt. White jacket with a black shirt, with a silver vest. Nobody knows how to listen. White shirt. White vest. White pants. White shoes.

With my outfit picked out, picked up, we head home where I try to relax. I know all white isn't very popular, or normal, to be sporting at a prom, which is why it got my interest. I wanted to do something different. I probably hoped deep down inside that maybe I'd have a massive spill with the food and then I'd bring them back to the tuxedo place like that. Who knows?

So now it's evening time. I have to start getting ready before my best friend and his date arrive. I got myself dressed up. Got the stupid flowers. 'And away we go'. With the three of us assembled, plus the parents, it's off to Smithfield to pick up the date. It was tough finding the house because no matter where you were, the street signs were off, the houses and woods all looked the same. Finally, I hit the cell phone and called her asking how far away I was. My dad seemed pretty irritated with all this driving around to find one house. So, we were two minutes away. When we finally found the house, I had to put on the happy face. It was like Halloween. I was forced to get into a costume that would only be in another place in 24 hours or less.

So, the parents took their pictures, and again we headed to Newport. I don't know what was going through my mind. Probably that I didn't know how to talk to this girl who I'd shared maybe about two sentences with. It turned out to be a pretty awful setup, and I believe that a spree would be tops on my list of "things to do". When we arrived at the hotel it was held at, the parents dropped us off, and we got inside. The first order of business was getting pictures taken. I think the photographer shuffled me in nineteen god damn directions that I was probably three seconds away from making his head into a frisbee. When the pictures were taken, what usually followed was finding your table, and going to sit. Thankfully, I didn't have to converse with my date. Her other friends there took care of that for her. I thought to myself "What the fuck did I get into?", and I left the table trying to find good people. I did run into a few people along the way, and I got some high fives, handshakes, and pats on the back for wearing the white tux. Restore self esteem.

What sucks about having to sit with your date is that you have to sit at the same table as her and eight other people you can't stand anymore. The thought of destroying them all raced through my head about as often as I got compliments on my choice of tuxedo. Imagine that.

After a little bit of dancing, meals were served. I'll admit I'm not much of a dancer, and I had some pending health problems that contributed to my pro-violence mindstate and my lack of patience for the evening's event. I would likely have been better off sitting on the beach eating sand and jellyfish. But, I'm here for the evening, let's have some fun, right?

The music being played was none to my liking. I anticipated this, so I brought a tape of songs from a band, Deftones, along with me. I know it doesn't really fit in to a prom night sequence, but, it would have been a joyful sight to see bodies and fists flying alike. After a few songs and dances, meals were served, but, between then, request cards were sent around to each table for songs to be played. When it got passed around to me, I penciled in "Bored, by the Deftones" and also a note that "I have a tape, I'm the only guy in a white tux."

He probably didn't care that I had the only white tux in the joint. He was the only one who looked like a dickhead in his tophat and faggot sunglasses. Thankfully, that would be the last night I'd seen him since. Dinner was awful. Some chicken with gravy, roasted potatoes that tasted like shit, and rice with a cheese flavoring to it. A poor cheese taste, that is. That's when I started on my rollercoaster ride of a prom night. I hadn't said a word for about a half hour, and then I took in a forkful of rice, and within 1.3 seconds, it landed on the table after being shot from my mouth like a monkey out of a cannon. I let out a "Holy shit, this rice is fucking awful", and one of the gay kids replied with "Wow, you speak. That's the first thing you've said all night." To myself, I thought "This won't be the last, loser."

The rest of dinner went smoothly. I consumed whatever I could tolerate. Which was probably just the feeling of the metal rubbing against my gums. Then it was unwillingly back to the dance floor. My patience was well below my self esteem. As I waited for song after song, and minute after minute would go by, I danced for about five songs. I had enough, for the time being, anyhow. I needed to sit, my leg was killing me. Then I decided to fool my date and go try to find my buddies. I needed some consolation on a rather poor prom night so far. In the process, I ended up getting hauled into a couple dances with other girls I ran into. That wasn't too bad, I guess. At least by this time I: Lost track of which table I was seated at, lost track of my date, and lost track of my sanity.

But, I made the mistake of heading back in the direction of where I figured my table was. The dj slapped on "Gettin Jiggy With It". The same fag who insulted me about being quiet said to me "Dance, move around, just do something." How about I kick your faggot ass around on the dance floor ?

The violent-mind rested in his chair at his table. I needed a break. I probably deserved one. Yeah, like breaking somebody's arms. Another girl at the table next to me started up a conversation with me. We'll call her Sandy. And you know why. Anyway, Sandy and I were talking about how much the prom sucked and we would have had more fun avoiding this event. I think I feel bad for girls who have a bad time. After all, they have to put makeup on, do their hair up, their fingernails. Us guys just have to put on a tux, slick back our hair, or up, or side to side, whichever you prefer, and just show up. Well, after talking to Sandy for about ten minutes, I spotted somebody I knew, but he didn't go to our school. He was the date of a girl I was friendly with. I'd met him before and he seemed pretty nice. So, we talked about how it would be fun to rush the floor and just push people around. Yeah.

And after finishing up that conversation, I confronted the dj. It was like fourty minute til the end, and I felt I deserved to hear my one request. After all, pop faggot shit was flowing four hours straight. I deserved some good out of this. I spoke nicely to the dj, but yelling. After all, he had music cranking into his stupid ears. Either that, or the hat provided the gift of ignorance. But, what happened wasn't what I planned for. My impatience was so built up, by this time anything was possible. When he told me he had a few more requests to fill and then he'd "see what I can do for you". I just kinda felt the switch flip and I started in "I hate you and your fucking stupid hat. Those sunglasses make you look like a pecker, too. I'd enjoy seeing you get choked to death by your microphone cord, you worthless bastard. And have a nice night."

That about summed up my prom night. I felt that was pretty successful. That was my so called "defining moment" for the prom. Lacing into the dj with uncalled for forceful words. Well, they probably opened and closed with "YMCA", but, by that time of night, I hardly remembered. I just wanted to get home and end this Halloween-like Prom Night. Which, after a quick dispersion of the crowd, an assembling of my date and my best friend, a few photos with some ladies, location of the parents. And departure.

For anyone still in high school reading this, let this be a lesson in Prom-ology. Never let your friends make this decision for you. You may regret it for forever. Don't let anyone "set you up" with a girl, or a guy, because thats exactly what it is. A set up. Set up for failure. Learn from my experience. If you're gonna go, have fun for yourself. Be rude, ignorant, and show some class. Thank you. I hope you enjoyed Prom Night[mare] '98. Rock on!