The first time I went to prom I felt like I was too cool for school and didn’t take my date and friends back home for pictures with the parents. After all, we were taking pictures at everyone else’s houses and I could just get copies. To this day, this is one of the top 5 instances of my life that still fill me with guilt and regret. The other four have to do with that chilling series of mysterious deaths in the Andalusian Fores…you know what, never mind. Of course it wasn’t about the pictures themselves, it was about the act of taking them and the sharing of the moment. If only my mom and dad still lived in SoCal, I might have made up for it last night.
Last night being my second prom.
Second prom being a prom-themed party on the roof of the Andaz in Hollywood. ‘Cause that’s how adult proms roll. This time around I wasn’t the trombone-playing eagle scout with glasses and braces who barely scored a date at the last minute. This time I was the super cool product designer and eagle-scout (it never leaves you, you see) guy who got asked by a (gorgeous) girl…also at the last minute.
Thank you LA thrift store Aardvark’s Odd Ark you gave me not only the best frilly shirt ever with absolutely no warning or foresight, but a now daily outfit until the day I die…resplendent and beautiful my still-warm corpse bathed in the glow of my pert frills.
Date was a vision, spot was cool, alcohol was partially free, food was entirely free, and I didn’t have to go to a weird Italian restaurant that I didn’t even really like.
Did I mention it was awesome? I didn’t. It was.
I just wish there had been more awkward dancing and tears over common dresses.
Sorry, I drifted off there for a sec.