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Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Proms, Drama, and Bowling

The other night I was lying in bed catching up on past issues of The New Yorker when I ran across a new word. It’s used to describe the near-crazy excitement and angst created as high school seniors prepare for the senior prom: PRAMA, “the drama during prom season.”

Who should I ask? Who’s going with who? Who will be king? Who will be queen? Where will we party afterwards? Will I get laid? Yeah, yeah, yeah… a couple of beers, careless sex in the back of your parent’s car, and nine months later you’re suddenly forced to take responsibility for those six minutes of sloppy sex. Suddenly the future doesn’t look so bright.

I wonder what the statistic is for prom night pregnancies?

In my opinion prom is the most over-rated night of the high school years, and all the worry and preparation is a total waste of energy. Can you guess I didn’t get laid on prom night? Weeks of foreplay and planning ended with a cold shower and a hangover. And the prom band sucked.

Years ago a friend and her date anticipated their prom as the most important high school night. They planned and planned and made sure they color coordinated his tux with her taffeta gown. Oh it was going to be perfect. He brought her a rose corsage and she pinned a matching rose on his lapel.

Anticipation was in the air.

When they got to the prom they were so damn bored they decided to leave. Where’d they go? Bowling. In gown and tuxedo. They had the best time, and she still talks about it and it’s been over twenty years.


I often wish I went with Carrie to my prom. Now that would’ve been a night to remember.


As I look back on my own prom and the prama and the total letdown it turned out to be, I should've gone bowling instead.

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