4.02.2007

Taffeta Hell

I have entered Taffeta Hell.

The Armory is dark and covered in tissue paper and balloons. There is a crappy band banging out a shitty rendition of the current popular redneck favorite in the background and everywhere I look there are taffeta covered Barbie wannabes. It makes me want to throw up. I am not amused. My date chokes back a laugh, looks at me and says, "Remember, you ASKED me to bring you here." I punch him.

We make our way through the neverending sea of pink and blue to a table where people I know are sitting. These are girls I know from class. Girls I usually have little to no problem with. Tonight they all look the same. They all look like little clones of each other. They're all wearing the same stupid grin and they are all giggling for some unknown reason. I'm at a loss for words. I simply sit down and stare at them. One of them says something and I have to ask her to repeat herself.

"Aren't you going to dance?"

My mouth drops open, "You're kidding, right?"

She actually looks stunned,"No, this band is great. We were surprised they got them to play tonight. We thought they would be booked."

My mind screeches to a halt and tries to grapple with this piece of information. Booked? For what? An In-breeders convention? I shake my head, "No, I think I'll just...No, I'm not going to be dancing."

My date is laughing at this point. I punch him again.

One of the other girls leans over and comments on my dress,"Why did you go with black? I mean, didn't they have anything less...dark?" She actually sounds like there's air leaking out of her head as she's talking. Her boyfriend spits into his soda can at that exact moment, completing the picture.

"I liked the dress. Pink isn't really my thing. To girlie for me."

She looks confused for a second and then her attention is drawn to something shiny off in the distance, "OHH...we have to go and get in line, they're going to do the processional."

"The what?" I ask.

At this point one of my classmates explains that every year, all the prom goers line up and prance down an aisle while being lit up by a spotlight so that friends and family can take pictures. Ooooookayyyyy......I'm out of here.

My date is now laughing out loud. I punch him one last time for good measure. He cringes this time.

I lasted fifteen whole minutes at my prom. Considering the amount of pink taffeta in the room, I think it's a miracle.

4 comments:

DangerDoll said...

Okay, you win. Yours sucked harder than mine. At least we didn't have the "processional" thing!

Paula said...

Yeesh! I'm glad I didn't go to these things.

knightjorge said...

Geez, after that I'm really glad that I never went to mine. I would have just wanted to make fun of, or shoot, damn near everyone.

Suzanne said...

I wore black to my prom too. Why would anyone not wear black? I don't understand.