Prom, Part II

  Knock.  Knock.  Knock.

  Her mom answers.  “Ashley’s not quite ready yet.  You must be Kevin.  Kevin, would you like to join us in the living room? Can I get you something to drink, Kevin?  My, you sure look nice.  Ashley will be down in a minute, Kevin.  Have a seat.  Anywhere you’d like, Kevin.  Ashley!  Kevin’s here!”

  And as you wait for Ashley with Ashley’s parents in Ashley’s living room, wishing you could just wait in the car, it occurs to you.  No wonder so many horror movies are about prom.  Five, ten, fifteen minutes.  Down comes Ashley in her berry dress.  It’s nice, and she looks nice, and you tell her how nice she looks, and you have dinner reservations in ten minutes.  Then, out comes the camera.

  Snap.  Snap.  Snap.  Now one with Kevin and your father.  Now one to send your grandparents.  Now one with me and my daughter.  Smile.  Snap. Snap.  And one last picture of you, looking at your watch, taking Ashley’s wrist and dragging her to the car.  Dinner reservations in five minutes.  If we’re not there, they’ll give’em to someone else. 

  And now you’re in, and seated and looking at the most expensive menu you’ve ever seen.  You’ve got 50 dollars in your pocket, and you’re hoping she doesn’t see the Steak & Lobster.  Now you know why ladies get to order first.

   You’ve been up since six this morning.  Quick trip to the tanning salon.  Hours spent with your friend’s big sister doing, and re-doing, and re-doing your hair.  Hours spent on makeup, hours spent thumbing through the latest prom issue of Seventeen, hours spent on your nails.  Everything has to be just right.  Just right.

  Not two minutes after your mom zips you into your dress, Kevin’s at the door.  Didn’t get a chance to eat, and that Steak & Lobster’s looking good.  Real good.  But it’s so expensive, maybe I should just get the salad.  I’ll have the Steak & Lobster, you tell the waiter.  And a glass of water. 

  Kevin orders the salad.  And a dinner roll.

  After her dessert, it’s back to the Escalade with the shiny wheels, and time for prom.  Then it’s pictures, and that’s when you first notice her shoes.  She’s six inches taller than you, and you’re on the basketball team. 

  And you dance, but not too much, because you’re talking about after-prom parties, and who’s doing what, and who has to be home when.  And who’s buying the beer.  Jeff’s older brother got a hotel room and…

  “No drinking?”

  No drinking, I promise I promise, I promise.

  We could go bowling or to Village Inn or we could go to the party but not drink, right?  Right.  “Ashley, wanna go to Jeff’s party?”

  Absolutely No Sex or Drinking.  I promise, I promise, I promise.

  This prom night, have fun.  Play it safe.  And—whatever it takes—get the Escalade home by two.

-From Pulse
   May 5, 2005