It’s common for teenage girls to obsess over the prom, but the last couple weeks have been ridiculous at my school. All I’ve heard in the hallways has been:
1) “Do you have your dress yet?”
2) “What’s your dress like?”
3) “Oh no! That’s my dress!”
4) “If you wear my dress, I’ll slit your throat with a steak knife, you ugly witch!”
It makes sense that girls want to look stunning, and having someone dressed exactly the same is a threat. But their passion over dresses is no match for their passion over dates. Here’s some more typical hallway banter:
1) “Did a guy ask you to prom?”
2) “Which guy?”
3) “Oh no! That’s who I wanted to go with.”
4) “If you go with him, I’ll murder your firstborn child with a salad fork, you cheap skank!”
To see what all the fuss is over, I decided to go to the winter prom, which was an enjoyable experience aside from throwing away lots and lots of my money.
First off, I needed a date. I asked my friend █████ to go with me “just as friends,” which means “no action for Marty.” I already had a suit, but I needed to buy █████ one of those flower-wristbands. So I called the flower shop:
Me: “Hello, I need a cleavage.”
Florist: “Excuse me?”
Me: “The flower-wristband thing?”
Florist: “A corsage.”
Me: “Uh . . . yeah . . . whatever.”
Yes, preparing for prom was unpleasant, but at the end of the evening—over the course of which I did not dance, because I cannot dance, although █████ found a willing partner and coincidentally did not need a ride home from me—not only had I lost all of my money, I was also still a virgin.
At least nobody was wearing the same dress as me.