If there’s ever a more AWKWARD time in one’s teenage years than those upperclassmen dances, then I didn’t experience it. So much drama accompanied those times in my life, that it was almost a sigh of relief once it was over with.
I’m not unattractive or undateable, but my luck in getting a date was horrible in prom situations. So much so, that when I brought home my new boyfriend freshmen year of college, it prompted my mother to ask, “Where were you around prom time?” During those momentous occasions I lacked that special someone to make it any kind of a fairy tale moment.
For months before the junior [not senior] prom took place, my friends started poring over prom magazines. That’s when the panic began brewing inside. I had neither a boyfriend nor close guy friend, so what was a girl like me to do? Ask an old friend I hadn’t talked to in years? Ask to be set up with any guy with a pulse? Were any of these options even worth it? There were guys I could have asked (especially considering I sat with pretty much all guys at lunch that year), but I couldn’t muster up the courage or get over the nagging feeling of embarrassment if I asked someone I didn’t know that well.
Instead, I came up with hokey alternatives to land a date. I prayed. I superstitiously wore my mom’s junior prom necklace to school for weeks. I entertained friend’s attempts for me to go with the cousins they hadn’t seen in years.
Finally, I gathered enough courage to ask an acquaintance to go, just as friends, to the impending dance. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the money and I ultimately missed out on going. My school only sells couples tickets, so even if I wanted to go solo, I couldn’t. It was a sucky feeling to watch my friends and neighbors go, while I waited around for prom weekend and tried to dodge questions from my parents’ friends about why I didn’t attend without sounding like a loser. All I could hope for was a better ending my senior year.
In January, when the unofficial prom countdown began at school, I panicked about having the same fate as the year before. If Mr. Perfect couldn’t appear in time, I at least wished I had the friend with the obliging older brother or token gay guy friend (at least one should be a staple in every girl’s life) to take with me. Unfortunately, I had neither.
A couple of guys at work liked me, and one even offered to take me. I had just started the job, though, and didn’t want any awkwardness between me and someone I hardly knew, let alone have any potential miscommunication about what we’d do once the dance was over. Lastly, I couldn’t imagine introducing a tattooed 25 year-old to my grandparents the day of prom and recoiled at my parents’ probable objections since I was only 17.
Out of my group of six friends, I was the last one waiting on a date. This time the claws came out. I’m convinced that a hormonal imbalance takes place in girls 17 and 18 years of age that occurs when their perfect prom experience isn’t shaping up as planned in a timely manner. I imagine this “promzilla” behavior is very similar to the “bridezilla” behavior exhibited by women in their 20s right before they marry.
My friend Kristan and I exchanged parallel prom worries during our 6th period, while the ladies in the office we volunteered for reassured us we’d get dates in time. A couple of weeks before prom, I went on a school retreat where I erupted with all of the prom drama and consequent problems with my friends because of it. To my surprise, two other girls in my group were going through the same situation and shared their stories. It felt good to know I wasn’t the only one experiencing prom anxiety.
Prom time was nearing, and I had to make decisions about ticket buying and whom I was sitting with fast. Two weeks before the dance, I made the hasty decision to buy a $200 non-refundable ticket and choose my seat alongside my friends at prom. The only problem was that my friends gave away my spot at the table because they didn’t think I’d have a date in time. When my best friend protested, they subsequently gave up her seat, too.
Now, instead of just worrying about a date, I had to find a new table to sit at, as well. One friend snapped that it was too late for me to go and another told me she “wasn’t getting involved.” A schism had occurred in my close-knit group of friends, and why? Because I was the only one without a date and that was somehow screwing up everyone else’s plans. I didn’t even know if I wanted to go anymore.
Before I knew it, there was only a week to go before prom. My sister, my friend and I gathered around with others as my neighbor Katie, an old friend, was getting ready to go off to her senior prom. My next-door neighbor had heard about my plight in getting a date for my own dance, when she asked, “What about him?” She was referring to Katie’s date, who also happened to be her daughter’s ex boyfriend. Albeit being a complete stranger and younger than me, I had invested $200 into a prom ticket and was in desperate need of a date. At the encouragement of my friend and sister, I said she could ask him. Shortly after, I had a date to the prom.
On the day of prom, I was really happy. My 18th birthday was just a couple days before, and my friend who officially kicked me out of the table got me a present and apologized. Everyone in my group of friends calmed down after that, and now we could all enjoy prom together.
My hair and dress were perfect, and my neighbor, the makeup artist, made up my face.
Once we arrived at the hotel in downtown Philadelphia, everything came together. Everyone danced and had a good time. I even ran into the two girls from my retreat, and we rejoiced in making it to the big day. I saw a couple of girls whose dates bailed on them, and knew one girl who dumped her cheating boyfriend the day before the dance. I heard about one guy’s unrequited love proclamation to his date, and saw some bored-looking couples leave early.
Although last minute date-getting is not for the easily stressed out, I had a pretty good situation, and definitely not a bad date.
I got my prom pictures two weeks later. My makeup artist neighbor had put a lot of bronzer on my face, leaving my porcelain skin artificially tanned from the neck up. But oh well. Choke it up to the AWKWARDness that is a part of prom.
I’m glad I went to prom, but I’m happy those days of worrying over a dance are done. I’m not the girl who has her entire wedding planned out since the age of 12, but I am looking forward to preparing for that. At least my date and the time of the ceremony will be entirely up to me. I’ll sit where I want, and, although I like my neighbor, I’ll do my own makeup.
~Kathleen Garvin
Philadelphia, PA
tua31156@temple.edu
