Must Delete Prom '90

Have you ever had one of those years where it was a "transitional" one? Well, for me, it was sophomore year. I was a "late bloomer" in all sense of the word, since I quit gymnastics in the 8th grade. I didn't even get braces until the spring of my freshman year. So, all sophomore year I spent being a brace face. I am sure my mom would attest I never had any transitional years, but I strongly disagree.

So, by the time Prom '90 came around, I was sporting braces and a recent body wave gone wrong. To top it all off, I had a job as a lifeguard and had spent my first 3 days of work getting my yearly sunburn. It wouldn't have matter much, but my dress was strapless! Oh, and it was light pink with ruffles. Good God. And if you thought I might be sporting the matching dyed light pink heels, you are correct. Give yourself a medal.

My date was actually a good guy. I can bet you money, he thinks of me on a daily basis. I was that good. NO! no. The night was just that memorable. Here, I'll explain.

The night didn't get too crazy until after the Prom itself. We pre-partied at his apartment with some couple friends. (His family lived 2 hours away and got him an apartment to live close to school. How freakin cool is that?) We made it to the prom, somehow, I don't recall. Actually, I don't remember anything memorable about the prom except getting some nasty ass party pics taken of the two of us. You know, the ones with the black and white checker board floors with the white column/plant positioned next to you. Vomit.

Anywho, after the dancing ended, we all piled into the van. I believe the girls were going to change their clothes at the after-party, but some of the guys thought it would be way cool to change their clothes in the car. One of those guys, my date, put on one of my girlfriends light pink mock-turtleneck tank tops as a joke. But the joke didn't stop in the car, he wore it into the after-party. Now, I told you this guy was nice guy, I didn't say he was a smart cookie. So, the night preceded on. I made my way out to the parking lot to find someone or something, who the hell knows, only to find my date sitting outside on the steps with a nasty bloody towel covering his shoulder. Apparentely, he had fallen through a freakin window. Nice. You see, he got in a fight with a fellow "friend" at the party and was pushed up against a window. There was a bar there that broke his fall, but also kept him in the line of the falling glass. Since he was wearing that damn tank top, the glass fell down and ripped up his exposed shoulder terribly. The ambulance came, loaded him up and whisked him away to the hospital. I tried to go with him, but they wouldn't let me. I WASN'T 18. Great. So, not knowing what to do then, I caught a ride with some other friends to the early morning breakfast, fell asleep in their van and woke up at 5am wondering where the hell I was.

I finally got a ride home and walked in the door only to see my mother standing there waiting for me. She wasn't too pleased to hear my lavish tale of my date falling through a window, being whisked away to the hospital, and me the one who couldn't go with him decide to lay down and take a nap, all without calling home.

It was a night not to remember, but poor John, he remembers. And it was all because of that damn light pink mock turtleneck tank top.


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