Saturday, June 4, 2011

Prom and the aftermath...

My, how prom has changed in the past 10 years (gulp, way to be super old Alicia). While some things will always be the same (up do's, princess dresses, drama, and inappropriate dancing), the kids are taking it to another level as time goes on. Three things I had to keep in mind all night: 1) this is New York City, not Pleasant Hill (meaning most of these kids are cooler now than I’ve ever been/ever will be in my life), 2) it’s 2011, and 3) these kids go to a high school for fashion (hence some of the style choices). There were some amazing outfits the students designed/made (yes made) themselves.

Chaperoning was a bit intense since we had designated stations assigned to us the entire night. My first shift was bathroom duty, which was perfect because no students were there yet and I avoided the late night bathroom drama that is inevitable on prom night. I was not in the mood to help mend ripped dresses and broken hearts. Ms. Hammond the social worker was off the clock! My favorite parts of the night were the photo shoot and dancing with the kids. Rachael and I took some pretty amazing pictures and I can’t wait to see which ones they actually give us. The photographer was trying to flirt (see below), so maybe we’ll get all 4 pictures. Watching the kids dance was both entertaining and disturbing. You know you’re getting old when watching teens grinding brings on waves of nausea. The last hour of the prom was awful music-wise. I defined the “music” in question as what it would sound like if house music and pop music had a baby. Stop and think about that for a second. They played upbeat songs for the prom court to dance to (well, since R&B no longer exists, I guess the slow dance has kind of died). There was some sort of fashion award that this young man won because he looked like he raided Lady Gaga’s closet. I can’t begin to describe the outfit, but there were definitely 8-inch patent leather stilettos involved. Upon accepting his award, we were blessed with an impromptu performance of “Born This Way.” Pretty sure my mind exploded on the dance floor.

At the magical hour of 1 AM, I was ready to turn into a pumpkin and pass out since it was way past my bedtime. We ushered the kids out the front door and then headed out for an adult beverage. Grabbing a drink tuned into a ridiculous chain of events that I was so not prepared for. Gotta love when your night starts at 1… Here are some of my favorite moments/quotes of the night.

As I’m sitting at the front table to check students in (who showed up as late as 11:30… I would definitely not spend hundreds of dollars for prom to go for an hour and a half. Most of them were more excited about the after parties, for which they all had separate, equally expensive outfits for)
Photographer: Why aren’t you enjoying your prom?
Me (confused): What?
Photographer: Shouldn’t you be dancing?
Me (realizing that he’s flirting): Haha, that’s sweet, but I am definitely not in high school.
Photographer: You can’t be that much older than them
*thinking to myself: If you think I’m that young, why are you talking to me creeper?
I proceed to chat with him for a few more minutes, mostly because I hadn’t taken my picture yet and didn’t want to burn that bridge. Lol.

Then Rachael and I headed to a bar in the Meatpacking District (aka the Douche Capital of Manhattan). We were hit on approximately 10 times in the 30 seconds it took to get to the bar. We posted up and got some drinks. Then Dance Fever (as Rachael called him) entered our lives…After freaking me from behind (keep in mind I’m seated on a stool) without my knowledge, he decides to introduce himself. We question his sobriety, and here is his response:
Dance Fever: I don’t drink; I’m an athlete. I’m just high on life.
He dances away (naturally) and is grinding on other women without their knowledge. I guess this place wasn’t happening enough for him, or it was past his bed time because he came up to us to say goodbye.
Dance Fever: Hey ladies, you should check out my website Then he proceeds to spell it out for us. All we could say is thanks. Then he and his entourage left. We start to think maybe he is an actual athlete. Then we speculate about what sport he might play.
Me: Too bad his website wasn’t… or .edu
Rachael: Or .gov.
We later checked out his website (because we couldn’t wait until we got home and we wanted to see it together) and it turns out it’s under construction. Lol. A Google search revealed that Mr. Eric Kelly is in fact a boxer. I wonder if Mike Tyson goes to bars and freaks people from behind without them knowing it…

After meeting a mini racist (he was maybe 5’4”) and avoiding a double date by saying neither of us could dance (Rachael is an amazing dancer, FYI), we decided it was time to go. Then we met Andrew Michael Harris.

(From behind us) AMH: F*#@! (he dropped his iPhone and the back was totally cracked).
Me: That sucks.
AMH: Yea, it does.
Me: Look on the bright side, at least the screen isn’t cracked.
AMH: Yea, but look at the back.
Me: Why don’t you have one of those cases?
AMH: They’re too bulky…
Me: Um, bulky is better than your phone being f’ed up.
Rachael: Excuse me, can I ask how old you are? (AMH looked 18, max)
AMH: Oh man, people ask me that all the time. I’m 21.
We chat with him for a while and find out that he’s a model or actor (I was clearly paying close attention). His roommate left him to go off with some girl and as a result is locked out of his apartment.
AMH: I’m gonna have to sleep on the street.
Me: It’s New York City, I’m pretty sure there’s tons of places open 24 hours that you could go to until the sun comes up.
AMH: I’m afraid of homeless people. I’d rather fight a bear than a homeless person.
Me: I get it, bears are more predictable.
AMH: Yea, this one time when this bear was chasing me…
Me: Wait, you outran a bear?
AMH: Yea..
Me: Well, obviously you outran the bear, you’re alive. I mean unless he took a chuck out of you.
This is when he proceeds to lift up his shirt and show us his 21 year old model/actor abs. At some point we asked him his name and it got formal with first and last names. Rachael just gave him her first name and he was not satisfied with that. We wished Andrew Michael Harris a good night and good luck with the homeless people and/or bears. He assured us that we would meet again someday…I’ll probably see him in a movie or on a billboard and recognize his abs before his face. Is that wrong? ;)

The night concluded at a diner… The Diner actually. I was approached by a tall woman who told me about a tall women’s society (for lack of a better word) and I’m pretty sure I joined right there on the spot. She was talking about height like race; “it’s nice when we find each other…” Huh? Lol. Two douches next to us tried to talk to us; one invited me to his jazz concert in November while the other took Rachael’s USED knife and fork off our table starting cutting up his food (despite the fact that there was silverware on his table). Our last douches of the night were right outside the diner. One had a bottle of vodka that was clearly taken from the bar, another had on a wig (and was certain that Canada was south of Antarctica), and the last was wearing a Mr. T like chain with ray-bans connected to them. I had reached my douche quota for the night and it was 4 AM, so I put Rachael in a cab and waited half an hour for the train. Gotta love coming out the subway station as the sun comes up.

Lesson Learned: Prom is WAY more fun as an adult :)

Prom 2001... Please note the up do and custom dress

... and 10 years later. I had way more fun with Rachael (no offense Shawn).

1 comment:

  1. “This Is should really start writing a daily blog about your life, and publish it...” -The Giant