Now, I know prom is supposed to be one of the crowning moments of our lives, where all the years of sweating and hard work are forgotten as we party and pretend we are grown-ups in our fancy clothes. But sometimes, it’s probably a good idea to step back and ask yourself: what does it all mean?
Originally, I wasn’t even planning on going to prom, as I would have to drive all the way back from Carmel the same afternoon. If you think that makes me a loser with no social life, you’re probably right. Between homework and cycling, for me even going out to see a movie is about as foreign a concept as it would be to someone living in ancient Rome.
Then one day while I was driving along, a squirrel proceeded to throw itself at me, obviously intent on committing suicide. Although I managed to avoid hitting Mr. Squirrel that time, I’m sure by now it has found someone a little less attentive at the wheel.
This squirrel got me thinking; he’ll never get to go to prom, or even get a chance to eat the cake that I’m sure will be there. Don’t I, who have all these opportunities lying at my feet, owe it to Mr. Squirrel to enjoy what he can’t?
So here I am, somehow roped into going to prom. That’s not a reflection on my date, though. She happens to be one of the coolest girls at Miramonte, and she probably also won’t read this column.
This brings us to the main point: what does it all mean? Well, first of all, it means I get to go out and buy a new suit, after not having one that fits me for the past two years or so. And no, I am not wearing a tux because I honestly cannot tell the difference, and I bet at least half of you can’t either. You could call it my way of sticking it to the man.
Secondly, I’m curious to see what all the hype is about. Is this truly a once in a lifetime event that will fulfill its prophecies, or will it fall flat. Secretly, I hope it’s the latter, because it’s always easier to make fun of something that does not live up to its expectations. All I’m saying is that if it really is fun, don’t expect my next column to have any humor in it.
Thirdly, and lastly, way deep down inside, in a place locked up by sarcasm and humor, there is a little part of me that actually wants to go to prom. This voice wishes that I cared more about these formal events and high school traditions and asks that this once I put away my vocal sarcasm. I think we all must have some old-fashioned romanticism and culture inside of us, because I certainly, despite all my skepticism, have some inside me.
Phew. Now that that mushiness is over, I can push those thoughts back down where they belong and go back to laughing at society for its stupid rules and etiquette. I can now say that I truly understand what prom is about; another mandatory high school event that may or may not be fun and is mostly important because it allows me to buy a new suit.
So to all you juniors out there, I’ll see you the night of March 24! And to everyone else, good luck having fun that night knowing that you aren’t invited to what possibly has a chance to maybe be the best party this month.