‘Tis the season for prom over at the dress shop I work at. Technically speaking, prom season started a couple months back, but of course, every little high school girl in this area has waited until the last-minute. Poor kids. All the good dresses are already picked over at this point, so I guess they’re gonna end up in either that lilac princess cut or the neon one with most of the midsection cut out, but I digress.
I remember my Junior prom all too well. Unfortunately. My best friend at the time, Kathleen, was in a mildly serious relationship with this boy so I knew they were going to prom together. That meant I was expected to get a date so we could double date for prom. Thing is, the only guy that asked me I didn’t want to go with. His name was Fred Berry, he had bright red hair & he may or may not have been missing a few teeth. I turned him down. Six times.
I went ahead & purchased a sassy prom dress with the intentions of finding a date. My dress was a spaghetti strap, mermaid cut, lime green number with a mesh cut out at the midriff. Whatever. I weighed 40 pounds less then. It was hot.
Months went by. I asked guy friends of mine. They already had dates. Kathleen attempted to set me up. Nothing worked. One week before prom I still didn’t have a date. I didn’t want to be the third wheel. Looks like I was going to have to do the unthinkable: ask Fred to prom.
He was pumped, of course. He took me to a crappy restaurant & I paid for my own meal. He insisted we get to prom an hour early to take pictures that I later found out he expected me to pay for. He wanted me to dance with him on every single song. He topped the charts as one of my worst dates ever.
I ended up leaving early with Kathleen & her boy toy to go bowling. We had a blast. Perhaps three isn’t a crowd.