Growls by Sprouls: Puttin' the Prom in Promiscuous

It’s that time of year again, boys and girls. The winter months have ended. The months of avoiding girls because of their obsession with princess dresses is upon us.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen.

It’s prom season.

Now, before you men run off screaming to find sanctuary (and women hit up the banks so they can get their princess-money), allow me to tell you that Prom really isn’t all that bad.

Of course, it’s not the over-romanticized, beauty pageant of the movies, nor is it a magical place where virginities disappear like the morning mist (poetry and sex? Damn I’m good), and nor is it a place where all your romantic dreams with that girl you were too afraid to ask until it was too late and she embarrassed you in front of all of your friends because she doesn’t want anything to do with you because you’re just a stupid skinny kid with glasses and the libido of a mosquito (Bringing Nirvana into this? I’m on fire) come true.

Yeah, there’s no Nirvana either. Or music of any quality, now that I think about it.

And of course, all of the little princesses suddenly turn into prostitutes the minute that stupid Usher song plays, but apart from that, there’s really a lot of cool things about prom.

Like the free drinks, if you have a ticket.

Or the chocolate fountain. That’s always a plus.

See? Lots of fun.

But my senior prom is coming up, and I’m really glad that I learned from all my mistakes at the Junior prom. And now I’m (hopefully) going to help you avoid the same pitfalls that I made.

Unless you’re going to the same prom I am. Then I suggest you stop reading so you can embarrass yourself at the dance for my entertainment.

IF YOU’D LIKE TO FOIL THIS PLAN, YOU CAN SHARE IT WITH ALL YOUR FRIENDS

I am a GOD at reverse psychology.

Anyhoo, my prom story starts with my prom date. See, she’s a nice girl; I like her very much (not like that, you silly person). We were pretty good friends my junior year. Then she stopped going to school at my school, deleted almost all of her Facebook friends, and disappeared from the school scene because she said she didn’t like the people at my school.

Watch out, Mickey Mouse. I might just have a new hero.

Anyway, we both needed dates for prom, so we decided to go together. But I still had to ask her to Prom.

PROM MISTAKE NUMBER ONE: If you’re dumb enough to go to prom, ask the girl in a very unique way. Or else you get nothing but a pity dance or a last-chance date.

I avoided this pitfall. See, at about this time, I had just bought the costume for the school play (A production of Bye Bye Birdie; I was Hugo) and part of that costume involved skinny jeans.

Some people tell chickens that they have “Dorsey Legs.”

Now, she found out about this, and very quickly, an inside joke about us simply switching pants if we wanted to arose.

So, for prom, I dug up an old pair of my pants and gave them to her. Inside was a card that said, “Now that you’re in my pants, you may as well go to prom with me.”

I will pause for a short intermission for you to make your “SQUEEEEE OMG OMG OMG SO CUUUUUUUUTE *barf*” noises.

You’re welcome.

PROM MISTAKE NUMBER TWO: As the guy, you get about 10% say in everything, but it’s the majority vote that counts.

This was a complete exaggeration on my part, but I’ve heard enough prom horror stories not to leave this tidbit out.

On the plus side, I look damn sexy in a tuxedo.

Guess which one is me?

So, preparations were made, and the big day finally came. Now, as I understand it, prom day schedules look a little something like this:

PROM MISTAKE NUMBER THREE: Prom is like a wedding, only in high school and without being forced to cope with a wealth of in-laws. Well, outside of pictures, that is.

I went through six photo sessions on prom day, and each one just got longer, and longer, and longer, and longer.

The first was with my mom. She took about three pictures and told me to get out of the house to pick up my date.

The second was at my date’s house with her parents taking about 80 pictures of me.

Then her friend’s house.

Then my prom group’s house.

Then my prom group’s backyard.

And then my date told me that taking pictures at the school-wide “Grand March” was stupid.

YAY FOR LOGIC

But hey, on the bright side…

PROM MISTAKE NUMBER FOUR: You’re in a freaking tuxedo. That’s classy. You better pick a place that matches your class.

I went to a Chinese buffet filled with small children wondering why we were so fancy.

But I guess it beats McDonalds.

PROM MISTAKE NUMBER FIVE: Grinding: A lot less awesome than you’d think it would seem.

Now. don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s lots of fun to simulate sexytime in front of everyone and their toaster. It’s just that when you have a group of six to eight girls all in a circle holding on to each other’s shoulders so they could stay low on their boyfriends, you know your overall Prom experience has just reached a whole new level of class.

To make matters worse, my date was really subtle about grinding as well.

It was among the most awkward and uncomfortable things I’ve ever done in my life, and I’m pretty sure I can say the same for my date. But fortunately, I managed to suavely avoid it.

PROM MISTAKE NUMBER SIX: Believe it or not, I wasn’t ACTUALLY TRYING to step on your dress.

Why do people wear dresses that don’t fit them? Am I the only person who thinks it’s weird for someone to spend hundreds of dollars on clothing that DOESN’T FIT?

The American(!) way, I suppose.

Ultimately, calling prom a waste of time is kind of like calling the pope a religious man.

In fact, just last week, I had a conversation like this: