Seventeen years ago (when fewer people had figured out what a psychopath I was) I was known to date the occassional young woman or three. I always looked forward to Proms and other formal dances because they were such perfect opportunities for..... ummmm.... getting to know them better. Unfortunately a series of tragic mishaps prevented me from every fully exploiting those chances. Here's a summary of such moments;
- called my new girlfriend by my old girlfriend's name (while they were sitting next to each other)
- Double-dated with a guy from school who spent the whole night spitting on people and calling his date "fat" (even in front of her father)
- Got a limo, went to the nicest restaurant in the area, bought a huge corsage yet my date still complained that I didn't spend enough money on her
- Spent that whole afternoon and early evening competing in a track relay causing me to be 45 minutes late to pick up a very angry cheerleader (we broke the conference record so it was worth it)
- Got deathly sick the day before, offered to call it off but the girl insisted we go. She spent the next three days throwing up
There you have it. And since I am in the distinguished position of being the first "Joy of the Day" (doesn't ring quite like Assclown of the Day - what are you gonna do) I'm going to make a rule that each subsequent Joy of the Day share their own Prom/Homecoming/Formal dance moment.
Lowly commenters can share their own in the comments section
4 comments:
Interestingly entertaining. I remember my prom date and I ate at a chinese restaurant and at the time I knew how to say "eat me" and "meet me in bed" in Chinese. Which I kept saying at the restaurant. Needless to say. My date was not entertained
I too took my date to a Chinese restaurant. I spilt egg drop soup on my dress. Good thing it was yellow.
I went to prom with a girl.
I got chased out of the prom by girls (cheerleaders, your date, Mr. Coward) throwing rocks at me.
We then climbed breathless into my big brown pick up truck and smoked cigars and made out.
Then I went and had sex with my drug dealer boyfriend.
The End.
Double-dated with a guy from school who spent the whole night spitting on people and calling his date "fat" (even in front of her father)
You're saying I shouldn't do this? Maybe I should be taking notes...
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