E Dagger’s Top 10 Tips to a Kickass Prom
As April turns to May, young men’s thoughts turn to fancy.
I’ve never cared for this expression in any iteration, so let’s change it up a bit. As the weather gets warmer, women lose their cumbersome layers, you don’t get an icy pair of feet tucked under your ass on the couch anymore, and it’s time to get laid! If you’re a young man and still in high school or college, then god bless this time of year. Savor this time lads, because never again in your life will you be surrounded by so many good looking women wearing so little clothing in your entire life.
And if you do happen to be in high school, this time of year means one other thing: Prom!
I realize it’s been damn near 10 years since I actually attended prom, and looking back I understand why I thought it sucked at the time. You have to dress up, all the douche bags in your high school all come together at once, and you’re out a couple hundred bucks. But looking back I also realize why prom is the institution that it is. It’s preparing you for all the stupid bullshit you have to do as an adult, but with virtually no consequences.
So, with that in mind, and as a veteran of two proms, I’ve prepared 10 tips for enjoying the night to its fullest. So, if you happen to be reading this as a high school student, take heed and pay attention. If you’re reading this and happen to be raising a young man preparing for this year’s prom, pass along these words of wisdom and let him thank you 10 years later over a beer. And, if this article doesn’t pertain to you in any way whatsoever, fuck it, just silently nod at your computer and think about all the ways your night should have gone differently.
So let’s get to it! Here are E Dagger’s Top 10 Tips to a Kickass Prom.
1. Don’t be a hipster dickface.
There’s always some group of guys who think it’ll be really funny to show up at prom dressed like a group of dickheads. At my senior prom, the lacrosse team showed up in Hooters t-shirts, camouflage shorts, headbands, and aviator sunglasses. They all thought this was hilarious, but considering everyone else had rented a tux and was doing their best to turn in a circle slowly to “Lady In Red” trying to get laid, this went over like a fart in church. You think you’re re-inventing comedy as we all know it with your iconoclastic gear, but really you’re just another in a long line of uncreative a-holes each year who try to stick it to the prom institution.
The truth is, these morons are really nothing more dorks who couldn’t get dates and have no chance at scoring a little strange because *news flash* women like the look of a man in a suit. You have your whole life ahead of you to be a fuck up, just fart out $100 and put a tux on like everyone else. It’s the one night in the year you have to appear like you’re a functioning member of society, and you can’t even do that right.
As a corollary, wear the goddamn tuxedo shoes too. No one will think you’re hip if you still have your Chuck Taylors on, they’ll just think you have bunions. Plus, when you look back at the pictures, if you’re not embarrassed by your haircut (you likely will be), you’ll wonder why the hell you thought it’d be so funny to wear ironic shoes. For the life of you, you won’t be able to figure it out, and it’ll torture you for days. You know why you can’t figure it out? Because it wasn’t cool then, and it’s even less cool in retrospect. So just do yourself a favor and put the uniform on. If you’re trying to be weird, get a tuxedo with tails like a butler from an old Warner Bros. cartoon. That’s the only acceptable weirdness that won’t piss you off later. And hey, as long as I’m talking about pictures…
2. Have fun with your pictures.
Every prom picture you ever see is the exact fucking same. A guy and a girl stand on the “x” clasping hands pretending to look happy even though the creepy photographer guy just ogled your girl’s cleavage and takes the picture when you’re somehow least ready to smile. These pictures are boring as shit and aren’t memorable in the least. Not only can I not remember a single one of these photos from high school now, I don’t think I even looked at them a week after receiving them. So, go ahead and fuck off in them. Like this:
Now that’s a memorable photo. I’ve been carrying this photo in my wallet for 8 years now (which explains why it’s a bit tattered), and it still always gets a laugh. In fact, I had our graphics guy scan this in at work and he laughed. Couples photos are largely worthless because the odds of you marrying the girl you went to prom with are almost nil. The odds of you and your high school buddies still being friends 10 years later? Much, much better. So get your boys together, do something mildly obscene, and get some value for your buck.
When we took this photo, the entire room froze, the photographer asked in a state of disbelief if we were ready (we weren’t – look at the guy on the right’s face), and we had a picture I still proudly display on my nightstand. You may be asking yourself how this is any different from showing up dressed ironically, and I answer. When you take a goofy picture, you annoy one dude (and likely the dates of however many guys are in the photo) for 30 seconds. When you show up dressed like a dildo, you annoy everyone all night with your questions of “How funny is this? This was J-Mac’s idea! Like my Hooters t-shirt?” Big difference. Plus, you’ve got something to look back on fondly from an otherwise awkward night.
3. If you’re getting a limo, make sure you’re driver isn’t retarded/at least a naturalized citizen. (A.K.A. This is America, you get what you pay for.)
My freshman year of college I had to go to prom with my girlfriend who was still in high school. Yeah, I know. If you ever want to wish you were dead, answer the question posed by your dorm-mates “What are you doing this weekend?” with the response, “Going to prom.” Yeah, you’re not getting drunk with them again for a while, if ever again.
Anyway, I hired a limousine company and figured one was just as good as another, so I got a low price.
You: Hey, how’d that work out for you, Dagger?
Me: Yeah, not so good. Thanks for asking.
This guy was fresh off the banana boat, got lost on the way to the house and was an hour late, got lost on the way to the restaurant, drove us to prom where he proceeded to hang out in the backseat doing god knows what and ran the battery down necessitating a jump, and got lost again on the way back to my house even though we were all yelling directions at him. In other words, this guy failed as a limo driver in every way possible. Since we weren’t about to tip the ridiculous incompetence displayed by this monkey, he gave me a pissed off look when I didn’t slip him a $20 at the end of the night. I told him to go fuck himself and get the fuck out of my driveway before I called immigration, so he left some tire treads on the asphalt in retaliation. Big man.
If this shithead had shown the least bit of competency in his job, I’d have given him that $20, but as it stands, I donated it to the tuxedo rental place. Which brings me to…
4. Check your rental tux pockets before returning the thing.
You’d think I’d have learned from my friend Carson’s mistake the year before, but no, I’m really that stupid. Our senior year, Carson calls me up the day after prom and leaves me a borderline insane message on my answering machine in the voice of our old boss (think chubby, manic, Pakistani guy) about how he left his Portofino cigar in the pocket of his tux and returned it and how he’s going to leave me “with five dollar in pocket for keg party” like this fat weirdo always used to tell us. To this day, I still regard it as one of the three funniest things ever said into a phone (The other two: Dat Phan going “You call me on the payphone. You waste my time,” from the movie Cellular and my buddy Conor leaving me a message that only said, “So turn out the lights and close the door. But for what? We don’t love them hos,” and hanging up without saying another word.).
But no, I left that 20 bucks in the side pocket and remembered it when I stopped to buy a Slurpee a week later and had to go back to the car and dig for pennies because that 20 was likely taking a magical journey through the dry cleaning wonderland, or in the hands of some grubby salesman at Mr. B’s formalwear. Gah!
5. Make sure your date isn’t allergic to dinner
Never experienced this one myself, but E-Dogg the Spicy Bitch knows what it’s all about. His date ordered some sort of exotic Mediterranean pasta dish, promptly swelled up like a blowfish and had to go home for a night of Benadryl and parental monitoring. Poor E-Dogg showed up at the dance by himself like Finch from American Pie and spent the rest of the night drinking a Coke looking like a sad panda. There wasn’t a lot we could do for him because we were all trying to work our own swerve, so we told him tough luck and wished him the best.
There’s not a lot you can do to prevent this from happening, but if your date orders a prime rib rare like mine did, you know things are almost certainly going to be fan-diddly-tastic. Although watching her order meat rarer than I did was oddly emasculating, oddly pride-swelling. It’s just like when I order steak with Lady E. Like I said – prom prepares you for real life humiliations without any consequences. I haven’t seen my date from that year since. I get meat cooked fuller than Lady E for the rest of my life. And because of that night, I’m ready for continued emasculation vis-à-vis finely cooked red meat!
6. At least check out the After Prom
Schools always try to foist some bullshit “after prom” nonsense on the student body to prevent kids from drinking and doing drugs on the biggest party night of the year. Surprisingly, it works more often than it doesn’t. And why is that?
Think about every high school party you ever went to. What happened? Everyone drank as much as they could as fast as they could and passed out 45 minutes later, threw up an hour and 15 minutes later, and passed out again 2 hours later. In short, high school parties were the shits.
After prom always sounded ridiculously fun. They were either held at the local rec center, or in my senior year, the Colorado School of Mines field house. They had blackjack, climbing walls, bounce castles, swimming, fortune tellers, and those tumbling mats you’re now too old to play on. It was all the fun of a carnival with none of the cost. And even though prom was all about posturing – you’re 18 after all – the lure of some good old fashioned childish fun was too much to ignore. You’re once again gaining valuable experience in the important world of casino gambling in a consequence-free environment, and there are bounce castles! C’mon! Who can turn down the allure of a bounce castle when there are no dumbass little kids in the way? No one, that’s who.
Besides if you’re caught getting lit up, the consequences are simply not worth it. So enjoy After Prom. Because it’s not like they have any kind of fun post-party after your company’s Christmas party. No one will ever rent you a bounce castle again without thinking you’re developmentally disabled. Think about it.
7. Amazingly, booze & pot are not a good idea for once
I almost never advocate against enhancing certain experiences, but prom is one case where I make the exception. You have all of college to drink yourself stupid, prom is the time to enjoy being a kid. And if you don’t buy that, the administration is especially vigilant about both alcohol and weed on prom night.
Schools want nothing less than to have a tragedy on their hands prom night. It’s an absolute PR disaster and something that sours everyone’s mood just before graduation. So while it may seem like the assistant principal is a raging hedgehog bitch (she is), she’s ultimately got everyone’s best interest at heart. We don’t need some fuckstick playing chicken with the oncoming light rail train downtown and ruining not only his own life, but casting a pall over your graduation and the month of May for the next ten years either. Save it for another night.
8. Prom King & Queen don’t mean shit
Think about it. Do you even remember who the prom king and queen were from your high school? I do, but that’s because I remember everything, so the argument is invalid. There were those who spent way too much time worrying about this distinction, and what was it for? A cheap plastic crown and a spotlight dance?
The only people who tell you ten years later that they were prom queen are the down-on-their-luck fuckjars like that bitch Sandra Bullock plays in Hope Floats. Don’t vote for Prom King and Queen. Don’t even acknowledge the distinction exists. Get your funny pictures taken while they announce the winners – there’ll be no line. This is the most pointless part of the prom, and if you don’t believe me, rent Encino Man again and watch Matt Wilson staple Dave to the school’s bulletin board mocking the entire thing.
9. Stay up as late as you possibly can.
This should be self-evident, but I have a point here. The only times since high school that I’ve stayed up all night were because I was either a) shitfaced; b) cramming for a test/writing a paper; c) sick as a dog; or d) some combination of the three. You never stay up all night with your friends sober anymore, and as you get older, who can blame you?
Staying up all night in your 20s is more taxing on the body than a 6-shot, 10-beer bender that ends at 1:30. If I stay up even past midnight anymore, it takes me days (plural) to recover and I’m wrecked for work all week. When you’re 18 years old, you can stay up all night, sleep for 10 hours the next day, and be rarin’ to go like nothing happened. And the best part? You’re not drinking, so you’ll likely remember most of the night. I remember prom and after prom better than I remember a good chunk of college, and while parts of those nights sucked big fat rhinoceros penis, they’re generally some damn happy memories. So roll into the house at 7:30 a.m. like I did when your parents are getting up because you’ll likely never do it again sober.
10. Forget getting laid. Go for the BJ instead.
Getting laid on prom night involves way too many logistical headaches. You either have to book a hotel, or have a friend like Steve Stiffler who has a house on a lake and a mom who doesn’t give a crap. Everyone’s defenses are raised – parents, your date, innkeepers – so the likelihood of success is not only slim, but goddamn laborious to boot. Sex is a huge deal and trying to close the deal on a night where so much has happened already is like trying to have a meaningful talk in the middle of a mosh pit. You can do it, it just takes a lot of effort.
The BJ is perfect because, well, she pretty much has to, right? You’ve dropped a c-note on your tux, another $60 on dinner (Sidenote: Remember going out to dinner before you could buy booze? It was so freaking cheap!), and however much on whatever prom tickets go for these days. You’ve invested in the night, it’s time to see your ROI.
And just so I don’t sound like a complete chauvinist, sex is in the air on prom anyway. You’re all dressed up, you’ve spent the entire night standing close to someone of the opposite sex, and it’s already late as hell. And if you’ve stoked the furnace by turning slowly in a circle to “Lady In Red” properly, she’s as ready to go as you are. The hassles associated with doing the deed are overwhelming, so a little freaky time in the car is just perfect.
I got road head for the first time on the way to after prom one year and stuck my hands down my date’s pants both years. This was perfect because the parents weren’t suspicious, I didn’t have to awkwardly look a concierge in the eye as he suspiciously handed a room key to me while wondering if that girl who was with me was above the age of 16, and we both busted out an “o” before hitting the bounce castle. What could be better?
So trust me, boys. Go for the BJ. Go for the BJ.
And on that note, we’ll close it up for now.
Happy Prom Season, everyone!
28 Apr 2009 E Dagger