Chapter 5 - Prom
I never really felt like I fit in anywhere or with any particular group of people. I floated around from group to group, every now and then finding a good friend who I would then spend the majority of my time with. Even so, I felt like an outsider, I felt like everyone else was so authentic and had their own personalities and here I was, just a fun dip stick without the powder. I felt like this my entire life, like I was just trying to figure out how people work, the majority of which I did through imitation. To this day I find it incredibly difficult not to pick up/mimic the habits of those around me, an ingrained skill I learned as a child to seem like an actual person. I had major confidence issues (I’m not sure why I feel as if I’ve conquered these or have the right to boast about them being in the past) and so when prom came about, the thought of asking someone to prom and forcing them to either reject me or go to prom with someone they didn’t want to was mortifying and I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask anyone. The whole neck brace thing didn’t exactly fill my teenage self with confidence either.
My friend Jeremy always had a way of making me feel like I was less weird or that I was actually tolerable as a person. We would hop in his silver Volvo S60 after school and just drive around for hours listening to music; I can still smell the “new car smell” air freshener spray that permeated the cabin. He had one of those old zipper cases that hold 64 CDs, filled with everything from electronic music to musical soundtracks; the soundtrack to Batboy the musical is still burned into my memory…
“In a cave many miles to the south
Lives a boy born with fangs in his mouth.
Sleeping until the fading light,
Flying through bloody dreams;
When he awakes the summer night is filled with screams.”
The adventures were always aimless, but I have so many good memories from them. It was Jeremy who eventually convinced me to go to prom in his group, with his girlfriend, and a few other people.
I remember getting dressed that day and trying to put on a tie only to realize that there was no way a tie was going to fit under the neck brace that I had on. I already felt weird enough not having a tux, but given that I had broken my neck and all subsequent accidents, I just didn’t care enough to get one. I figured I’d go without a tie, but a family friend [the mother of the first person I slept with] offered a bolo tie, which I figured was better than nothing, I may have (definitely) misjudged that decision. The combination of that suit, bolo tie, glasses, and neck brace felt oddly reminiscent of an 8th grade science project I had cobbled together from shit around the house the night before it was due because I had done fuck all preparation.
To be honest, thinking back, I’m not sure what my motivation for going was. I looked like shit, felt like shit, and was going alone. Maybe it was one of those things where when you look at a car crash and you simultaneously slow down and start to steer toward it because you’re looking in that direction. Or, more likely, I was having one of those delusions where I thought someone would fall in love with me at the dance. I think I was secretly hoping for a “(s)he’s all that” moment where somebody sees past my glasses and neck brace and I turn out to be a supermodel, which, spoiler alert, much to my chagrin, did not happen [neither the recognition nor turning into a supermodel].
Despite all of the circumstances that framed what could have been a disaster of an experience, I remember having a pretty good time, or at minimum, I only remember the good parts. Part of the reason I had a good time is just that those types of events are not very important to me; but the real reason it was a positive experience was because I was surrounded by a bunch of other weirdo friends, who can make any experience a good one. It’s like getting injured and being in significant pain and one of your friends hits you with the perfect joke that just makes you want to stab them, not fatally, but a healthy little stab… “how dare you make me laugh when I am in this much pain!?” I’ve taken skateboards and full beer cans to the face but I remember bleeding with a smile because of my dumb ass friends. Going to jail sucks… going to jail with a friend!? … still sucks, but at least you’ll get a few more giggles out of it.
Looking back, my favorite people in the world were and are the weirdest people; by being unique, they offer the most interesting stories/ experiences/ perspectives. The more “normal” a person is, the more carbon copies of their personalities you can find. I have a lot of weirdness in my brain, but very little gets out, and that’s boring; don’t be like me, let your weirdness out, the world needs more of it.
