Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Be Warned, 80's Alert!

I went to prom twice, once in 1986, and again in '87. I attended high school in Rock Valley, Iowa, and my class consisted of a whopping 40 students.

At Rock Valley, you took your prom date to dinner in "New York" or "France". That is, you ate in the school's cafeteria - thinly disguised with paper streamers and glitter glue. A dinner of sliced turkey, mashed potatoes, and fruit hiding in jello was presented on lunch trays by a select group of sophomore servers. Wine glasses were filled with water or milk. If you chose the milk option, it was poured from the small, cardboard carton, "Merci, mon garçon." 

For dessert, a sheet cake proclaiming "Puttin' On The Ritz!" in white frosting was drawn and quartered. 

After watching a slide show set to the songs of Billy Ocean, we had 45 minutes to kill before the big dance in the elementary gym opened. Most kids fled the school to their cars so they could drink and drive on the web of gravel roads spanning Sioux county.

Not me, though. I used that time to work on my math homework.

In the 80's most kids drank beer, but if you wanted to "step it up" you went for a wine cooler. And because everything in the 80's was huge, wine coolers came in two-liter sizes!


And that's when my first prom went awry. My date left the school to go drive around with her friends, and I was supposed to met her at the dance around 8:30. She didn't show. Well, she showed, but in her nervousness, she had almost drunk a whole two-liter of Sun Country by herself. That's a lot of alcohol to consume in a very short time. 

Her "friends" got her out of their car and into mine where she puked and fell asleep in the backseat. Four hours later, she was able to walk into her house by herself. And while wearing my tux, I hosed off my back seat and car mats at the car wash.

Wow, that was fun. I didn't even get a prom date photo standing near a fence decorated with Xmas lights on the "Brooklyn Bridge".

To avoid such problems, the next year I went stag. The school dinner was exactly the same, except I sat at the "singles" table (that's a little sad in itself), and before falling asleep in his mashed potatoes, a drunk classmate invited our Home Ec teacher to the kegger at his house. Sun Country claims another victim.

Again, I was alone at the prom dance. But this time I had the foresight to ask several girls if they'd be kind enough to pose with me for my prom pic. "There's no pressure. I was just wondering if you'd stand by me?" Mostly, I was answered with quizzical looks. I think they thought I was joking.

As the Whitney Houston and Wang Chung songs bounced around the gym, I watched in the hallway as couples stood in the photo line primping and curling. The photographer was going home at ten, and around that time I stood biting my lip, hoping the DJ would remember to announce it was time for my prom photo. I had made a special request, but I was worried that he thought it was a joke, too.

As "The Lady in Red" winded down, I heard the loud speakers in the gym echo, "Excuse me ladies, but if you want to take advantage of being in Brent Monson's prom picture, your chance is now..."

For a few minutes I stood by myself in front of that dark backdrop as the photographer began to pack up his bags. Silently, I was praying someone would lower themselves for just one second to help me out...

And then the girls walked in... en mass. I couldn't believe it! Look how many girls left the dance floor and their dates. The photographer had to pull the camera back as far as he could to get everyone in the shot.


Thank you, ladies. Sincerely. It didn't last long, but for about 45 seconds, you helped me feel pretty cool.

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