Monday, April 11, 2005

More Story Time (Reunion Edition II)

In most American high schools, the sacred time of Prom is approaching. Students will make elaborate plans, buy expensive dresses, rent tuxs, and even make post-Prom plans. When I was in high school, Prom never turned out well, but when I was in college, I attended a Prom that was actually quite fun and had its own share of drama. This Prom was the brainchild of myself and two ladies known as Liz and Tijuana. It was called One Last Chance.
It all began on a warm summer night. As we sat in the living room of the apartment Liz and Tijuana shared, stories were shared about past Proms and the way they ended well, or sucked, or whatever. After a few minutes, the idea was broched: why not throw our own Prom? At first, we just laughed it off, but as time progressed, the idea began to take form. The only unresolved issue was where to host this shindig. Now, it was quite obvious that it was supposed to be at my house, because it was spacious, and I lived alone. Plus I had a large yard and places where people could mingle. After a few minutes of convincing, I agreed. Prom would be at my house.
We created invitations and had a cover charge in order to pay for food and alcohol (we had a buffet, wine, punch, and other goodies). Everyone had to bring a date, and, according to the invitation, they had to dress up. Black tie only. I even wore a tuxedo. One student, Craig, offered to be a bouncer for the people who didn't pay or weren't invited. I set up a backdrop and took pictures of couples. We even had two faculty members offer to be chaperones. Unfortunately, one teacher, Anne, ended up being stalked by a student who attended the party. A few of us had to teach him a lesson, but that's a story for another day.
The Prom itself was....interesting, much like a real prom. There was excitement, drama, and even surprises. Liz, perhaps a little too drunk, wandered off, leaving her date behind and sent her friend Sarah searching for her. After a few hours, Sarah was able to find her. The real surprise, however, was the free show everyone got to watch. Two of the attendees (we'll call them Alison and David to spare them the embarassment) also got a little too drunk. As the night went on, the two began talking, then making out. Finally, as the party was starting to wind down, Alison and David moved into the kitchen and began having sex on my stove. Let me make that clear. Not against, not near, they were ON my stove. What made it worse was that as more members of the party stopped to watch the kitchen action, the two participators got hotter and heavier. They had to be stopped before they made the mistake of getting naked in front of people they knew quite well. With no other course of action visible, I turned on the stove. That jolted them back into slight consciousness. As they looked around the room at everyone staring at them with open mouths, David grabbed Alison and raced to the loft area of the house. As the music started back up, people standing near the loft could hear the noises that were undeniably easy to identify.
Other interesting outcomes of the party included my porch swing being destroyed by patry-goers, a guy who attempted to crash that had to be knocked out, police officers that ended up joining the party when they were off duty, a few party crashers that got past the door and attempted to steal all the alcohol for themselves (they failed miserably), a few people who slept on my lawn and hammock, and Alison and David each coming to me, after spending the night, and begging me not to tell their signifcant others. Oh and one other interesting aspect: I got a stalker. Yup, there was a gal who came to Prom and she ended up being enamored of me. She would call me at odd hours of the night and followed me around campus. Sweet girl, but she picked the wrong guy.
To this day, whenever I run into people who were at that party, they tell me they had a great time, and that I know how to throw a party. Most people came out of that party with a good story or positive feeling. Some just enjoyed the party atmosphere. Maybe, one day, when I'm 64 and dying, I'll throw one more Prom just to have one last party before I go. I'll call it: One Last Breath.

No comments: