A Prom Story

About a week ago, my friend, Matt, invited me to a birthday party/"mock prom" at Henrietta's, downtown (at my request). I had never been to Henrietta's before last night, and it sounded like a neat place, as well as a neat idea - I will also accept any opportunity to dress up that I can. Besides, a mock prom with alcohol and a chance to meet tons of new, possibly cool people? I'm there.

But a problem presented itself: a mixture of nervousness, shyness, impending boredom, and loneliness, mixed with heaps of alcoholic beverages can only mean one thing... as you'll soon figure out. Good thing I brought my digital camera along.

Let's start at the beginning; shall we?

My gal pal and I get all dolled up and snap a few glamour shots before heading out the door:




God, we're sooooooo pretty.

P.S.- Pun sooo fucking intended.

I drive (sans female friend, actually) to Matt's apartment in Riverside, and after a few compliments on my hair and makeup...


...we pick up a friend and head to Henrietta's.

On arrival the place looks real artsy and trendy. The spot must have been an auto repair shop at one point because the front of the building is nothing but giant garage doors with innumerable amounts of windows. The whole place has a very neat vibe... murals and paintings and modern furniture... not a typical Jacksonville chain restaurant.

We enter through the main bar and head straight to the back stage area where the "prom" is being held. It's 9:00 P.M. at this point: the scheduled time for the party to begin... which means we were two hours early. The party coordinators explain that the music guy is running late, and assure us of the onslaught of guests to come. The five of us who were uncool enough to show up on time sit in silence, immersed in confetti. As I watch the photographer set up her camera, and stare longingly at the birthday cake, I snap a quick pic of the tomb known as the main dance area:


That's one bright flash.

I contemplate asking someone to shoot morphine directly into my eyeballs, but at the risk of sounding too retro, I ask for a drink instead. Matt, as any good prom date should, then begins a 10 minute long quest to buy us a few drinks from the one bar in an attempt to keep me from skewering my eyeballs with the heel of my shoe.

After an awkward and slow-going conversation between my new friend, Charles, and I, Matt returns with sweet alcoholic relief in hand. I down the drink Robert Downey Jr. style and bat eyes for another. This is the point where Matt realizes it's not such a good idea to bring alcoholics out as dates...

Finally, the other guests start arriving, as well as the music guy. Matt very politely and thoughtfully introduces me to everyone, though I believe an hour goes by before I gain the chance (and minumum alcohol level is reached) for me to start having flowing conversations with people.

A few more hours pass by, and I begin to feel as though more alcohol may not be the most intelligent decision; lucky for bartenders everywhere, however, I keep a mental bat on reserve in order to beat the shit out of common sense, manners, and good reasoning, for just such an occasion.

In case you were curious, I've prepared for you a list of my drunken prom antics:


I could not stop talking about the fact that I possess property rights to a vagina

...or how good of a deal my dress was

I actually whooped several times during the "Prom King/Queen election"

I harassed a girl so incessantly about her hair that she probably thought I was an interested lesbian

I started to fall asleep in the dance room thrice

Several times I eluded to a recent tragic love affair of mine, and dramatically held my head in my arms repeatedly

I made it widely known, and even demonstrated, that I know all of the words to "Baby Got Back"

I spilt beer on myself three times

I very loudly and publicly choked on a cherry from my Amaretto sour

I plugged my blog to two different strangers

I slurredly and stumblingly counted to thirty in French to four different people (including myself)

I was corrected on my pronunciation by three different people I counted to (excluding myself)
Pretty sure I let someone grab my ass

I wasn't very good at standing

I continuously wandered off and had to be retrieved by my mock prom date

I almost single-handedly constructed an elaborate plot to take advantage of an extremely drunk girl in order to get my friend some ass

Though, admittedly, that last one is sort of just me being a good friend, right? The bestest best of friends. Also... I only plugged myself twice - that number could have been much higher. I also have to pat myself on the back for not getting wasted and dancing... Maybe that makes me cold and frigid and boring, but at least it saved my dignity. The last time I allowed myself to consume liquor and boogy down the result was not so pleasant:


What'dya want? I'm fucking white

Aside from my intoxicated presentation of what it must be like to hang out with Sybil, I must say I had a good time. I met some really cool people and got to wear a pretty dress, and the party planners/friends of the birthday girl did a very good job at recreating a high school prom. The prom court elections were rigged... just like in high school... and at the end of the night I sat drunken, by myself, while my prom date tried to get into another girl's pants. The only difference was that, this time, all of the drinking that went on was actually legal.

Aaaah, prom.

I'll end this post with the couple photo that my "mock prom date" and I had taken in order to capture the moment forever:

That could seriously almost be a 'Precious Moments' figurine.