Did you get too drunk to remember? Tsk tsk That would be a shame. It is such an important night and it only happens one time in your life. It heralds the coming of true man and womanhood. That final coming together with old familiar friends before that proverbial leap into the human abyss as it were. It’s a special occasion, one that should not have to be recalled as an alcohol induced all night binge. One should never become so intoxicated on that pivotal night, that they can’t draw on those fond memories later on in life.
I would love to hear what you did on your prom night.
I would tell you what I did, but I was just too damn drunk to remember.
I think I got laid though.
PS. My son’s prom is tonight. Me and some other parents rented a Limo and driver for the entire night. Best money I have ever spent.
…
Fame, ain’t it a bitch.
AJ Benza
My prom night? I looked up from the computer and said to my friends around me, “Hey- this is prom night, isn’t it?”
But no regrets- I was much happier hanging out with close friends than standing around in an ill-fitting tux, too scared to death to dance, and trying to figure out if I actually knew any of the people there.
JMCJ
“Y’know, I would invite y’all to go feltch a dead goat, but that would be abuse of a perfectly good dead goat and an insult to all those who engage in that practice for fun.” -weirddave, set to maximum flame
I was 15, I wore a long blue crepe sheath with chiffon overlay and sleeves. Spent 8 hours getting my waist length hair highlighted, teased, swept up into an enormous Dairy Queen sculpture. My date gave me a blue and white carnation nosegay. This was the Junior Prom in the school gym, we danced a little and it was very self-conscious and awkward. (My girdle was killing me!) Various parents shuttled us around and the dinner was held at a Polynesian restaurant, where MY LIFELONG ADDICTION to Chinese food began as sure as a boozer remembers that first drink! Drinking age was 18 and I recall a few glasses of beer at the other tables, and I tried a sip of pina colada which I didn’t like. My date and I were practically the youngest juniors in the school, so no one was going to serve a couple of babies like us. Someone’s parents picked us up and took us home at 3 a.m. I have to say I had a really good time, and only wish I had a picture of me and Teddy. Now, the Senior Dinner the next year wasn’t half as fun. It was held in a restaurant with a crummy all-you-can-eat truckdrivers buffet, with gray roast beef and canned vegetables and dried out slices of yellow or chocolate cake for dessert. I went through the hair torture again, this time the power went out at the shop. I had my period. The night before my father was taken to the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. I don’t remember any alcohol, and of course there were no limos and certainly no hotel rooms reserved. My daughter is 12 and she will not be allowed to get drunk or go to any hotel rooms should she ever get invited to the prom in the years to come. I will make it crystal clear I will kick her ass to the moon and ground her until she is 18 should any of that happen and I find out about it. (BTW at the Senior Dinner I wore a horrendous black/silver mesh jumpsuit, examples of which can still be found today in Salvation Army thrift shops thruout the land!)
All you people with kids going to the prom - PLEASE make sure there are pictures!!! I would give anything to have one of me back then!
Very dull, I’m afraid. I wasn’t dating anyone so I went with a platonic friend . . . I was one of the few with a car, so I wound up driving about a dozen people home . . . It was 1975, so we were all wearing REALLY horrible clothes, hair and makeup.
Nice evening, I guess, but nothing special at all. Now, once I got to college, my social life went from 0 to 160 in three seconds . . .
Okay,
A. Senior Prom was not even in the top 100 Important Nights of My Life, and certainly not a Rite of Passage or anything else important. Getting dressed up in sequins and hairspray was actually pretty routine for me in high school (I was in a performing group) and the only reason I even went was so that my date (who was a soph. and couldn’t technically ask somebody to Prom) could hook up with one of my other friends’ dates (who was a girl and therefore coulodn’t ask the soph. herself.
B. I spent an hour and a half sitting (in my dress) in the grass behind an idling coach bus, waiting for the rest of the coach buses to show up to take us to the post-prom activity. The bus-fumes made me sick for three days.
Altogether it was a most unpleasant, anything-but-landmark experience. I should have stayed home.
“Well, I guess this means the fun’s over.” -Gus Mc Crae
“It may be over, but it sure wasn’t fun.” - Woodrow Call
Based on the various ages of girls I dated, I went to 5 proms.
I am convinced the human body has only so much capacity for cheap sentiment, poofy dresses, crummy rock ballads/themes, and uncomfortable tuxedos.
As a bonus, during the first prom that I went to with my future wife, she managed to drop an earring and a piece of cheesecake down the front of her dress.
Coming soon to a sig line near you!
Relive the mundane highs, the flaming lows, and the pointless posts in between. Announcing the debut of the best of Mullinator.
But years later I was out with the right girl on our wedding night…we were totally exhausted and staying in a fancy hotel downtown…we arrived, checked in, opened up a few cards to gather enough money (gotta love friends and their rich parents sometimes) and went downstairs to the equally fancy restaurant. Now, I’m in a tux & the wife’s in a conservative wedding dress that looked more like a fancy dress than a wedding gown. We sit down and notice that EVERYONE in the room was dressed up like us…HHmmmm…that’s strange…and they all seemed a bit, well, young. The waiter comes up to us, and in a polite but informative way asked if we would like something to drink “Coca-cola, juice, water?” Letting us know that we weren’t going to fool him, he knew we were from the local High School on Prom night, and we weren’t old enough to drink. This all dawned on me after about 5 seconds, and my wife was TOTALLY lost (she’s Czech, none of this made sense). So I looked up at him, started laughing, and grabbed my wife’s hand and held it up for him to see our rings…after an equally timed 5 seconds he shook his head and said:
“OH! Excuse me sir! Would you like a bottle of Champagne, or maybe a Scotch, or…?”
My wife and I burst out laughing and everyone else wondered why A) we were able to drink alcohol or B) why we had flunked so many grades that we were still in HS.
My date was imported from Baton Rouge (even though I gre up there, I still consider Louisiana a third world country). I moved to Houston my junior year. My date and I went to the prom long enough to have our picture taken - proof that we actually went - for my parents. We then got a hotel room, drank screwdrivers, watched cable tv, and enjoyed our young, beautiful bodies.
We will probably do the same thing (sans prom pictures) again in a few weeks when I travel to Portland on business. He lives nearby in Eugene. Our bodies are no as longer young and as beautiful as they were back then, but they still fuction as well, if not better.
I don’t think I ever got dressed up in my entire high school life…no fancy shmancy dresses for me. In fact, I think I went to one dance, in seventh grade, and wore pants. No prom for NightRabbit and you know what? It depressed me all through college <sigh>
Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam
omnem mihi dabis, ad caput tuum
saxum immane mittam.
Prom night my junior year I was at a friend’s house. When his folks asked him why he didn’t go he said how he had no need to participate in an archaic tribal mating ritual. I said I couldn’t get a date either.
Senior year I went with a nice girl to a reasonably uncheesy prom. The only powerfully lame part was a “dance band” that made Lawrwence Welk seem like the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Since my main squeeze went to a different high school and we had gone to my school’s prom we went to her after party at the Old Tucson theme park. People familiar with Tucson know the drive there goes over treacherous Gate’s Pass in the Tucson Mountains. The road is extremely narrow, has nasty switchbacks and no guardrails at that time making it a traditional place for teenage lovers to plummet to their fiery deaths. I was stone cold sober so I managed to navigate my dad’s '78 Chevy truck there without incident.
After dropping off my comatose date and catching a few winks in the church parking lot I showed up for the early service in my tux. All the other guys decided to change to jeans so I felt like a complete dork as everyone’s mom fawned over me. To top it off my girlfriend slept in and didn’t even show up.
Ah, the golden memories. Now I have to go into therapy to forget them. You’re a bastard aha.
I had two proms, junior and senior year. My junior year, my high school had a group of about twenty foreign exchange students from France who were visiting our school for a month. Since my high school was small, only upperclassmen were allowed to go, and the French group was about 80% male, all of us girls who didn’t already have dates for prom were persuaded to go with the French students.
I borrowed a long green satin dress from a friend. My date was named Yves and he brought me a huge corsage and kissed my hand. He was too shy to talk and barely said anything all evening. We ate dinner at a friend’s house in a big group, then went to the dance, had the pictures taken, and went to another friend’s house for post-prom. I had more fun talking with my friends than with my date, although after he went back to France he sent me wistful and sweet cards for years on the anniversary of the prom.
Senior year, I went with a dear friend and another couple. I had a white and silver velvet dress that I really liked (hard to describe). We went to the nearest city for dinner at a nice restaurant, then came back and went to the dance. The theme was Mardi Gras and we had a great time dancing and throwing beads and drinking punch. I got to dance with the guy I had a huge crush on and flirt shamelessly. Afterward, we went back to my house and changed clothes, skipping the after-prom parties at motels and going to Denny’s, where we ate breakfast and sat laughing hysterically until 4 a.m.
My grad seems way different from any of these stories (I mean hell, they even call it grad, not prom), being from Canada myself. There was a cocktail party, dinner, dance with your mother, beer orgy. My grad date was a defunct countess, I had too much vodka in the limo, too much champagne at dinner, and too much pot and beer at the afterparty. I only made it to about 1:00, then from 3:00 to 9:00. I slept most of the next day. I remember hearing tales of sexual debauchery, but I just remember being hit in the head with a frisbee that was jumping from spot to spot about 3 times a second.
My school had proms in both junior & senior year. I went the first time, determined to try to enjoy that “magical, once in a lifetime special night” like a normal person. It was stupid, and it sucked. It was just the same brainless clique-ish people who made everyday school life pathetic, only with EXTRA-fancy clothes tonight to prove how superior they were.
The next year I went with my (older) boyfriend to the home of a friend who had – a CD player! (the first one any of us had seen - it was 1982). We drank and partied and had a great time, and never gave a thought to the dorky prom we were missing. Nor have I ever had a millisecond’s regret at not going.
Overblown, overrated, overpriced, overdone.
Sorry - no misty, sentimental teenage memories for me.
