now that i think about it... [564]

[an email to a friend... -Ed.]

i don't know what set me to thinking about it.

just one of those random thoughts during the day, i suppose.

of course, it was aided by the episode of king of the hill that was just on...

it was march of 1995. i was seventeen years old - tall, lanky, and a complete geek. i was so uncool... i never got invited to parties, or to go drink, or anything of that sort. there was no sneaking out to do those things, either. my dad made sure that our house was a fortress. once lockdown hit, there was no in or out.

anyway, i was playing guitar and video games one day, and my dad walks into my room:

"it's getting close to prom time, isn't it?"
"yeah, i guess."
"you going?"
"i hadn't really thought about it... probably not... nope."
"why not?"
"not into it."
"why not?"
"i don't know - i'm just not. seems kinda stupid."
"you know, if you don't go, you may regret it one day."
"regret what? junior prom? i doubt that."
"why don't you let history be the judge of that?"
"well, i guess i'll worry about that when i'm really old... like, thirty, or something."
"don't be a smartass - you should go to prom."
"i don't have any money. you won't let me get a job."
"your grades are important. i don't want you wasting time at a job and let your grades suffer."
"high school is easy - trust me, my grades won't suffer."
"don't be a smartass. you're going to prom. money is no object. i'll take care of it."
"why?"
"so you don't regret not going when you're older."
"whatever."
"don't be a smartass" [there was a lot of that growing up, as you can imagine... it's not like i listened.]
"i can't go. i don't have a date. it's sorta late for that kinda thing."
"you'll get a date. what about ceci?" [ugh... i haven't thought about ceci (cecilia) in a long time... ugh...]
"what about her?"
"why don't you ask her out? mr. garcia's daughter is her friend, right? doesn't she like you?"
"i don't think ceci is the kind of girl you thi..."
"you're going with ceci. call her."


well, i didn't call her.

but i was pretty pinned down - any excuse i made for not going, he one-upped me with an offer of money, or a tux rental, or letting me have the truck for the night...

mum was behind him 100%, too... i was so screwed.

so, i saw ceci at school the following monday. as i recall, she was a freshman while i was a junior... actually, i just looked in my senior yearbook (god, i haven't thumbed through that fuckin' thing in forever... UGH!), she was a sophomore my junior year, yes.

anyway, ceci and i had flirted before... or, what's more correct, she'd flirted with me.

"so, you, uh... wanna go to prom?"
"sure! that sounds fucking great!"

greeeeaaaat...

anyway, i remember the tux... probably because i have a shitload of those pictures left. i gave half of them to ceci, and only gave a couple to my parents. the rest are in my archives. i never passed any of those out to anybody.

the tux, right... black pants, black cummerbund, white shirt, black bow tie... check this: white coat. i don't know, it kinda made me feel like james bond, and i was the only guy at prom wearing something that different. it was a statement - i am different, assholes!

so, i picked ceci up that night, and... for the life of me, i can't remember where we went to dinner... if we went at all. i was pretty embarrassed the entire time, but i'd had the whole thing planned.



yes, we must have gone to dinner... this was, well... it was my first-ever date. i wanted to try to be romantic.

i'm not sure why. i didn't really like her all that much. i guess i felt it was one of those things that you do. you know... you just do.

girls really didn't like me much... at least, not that i was aware of (and i was into someone i couldn't... but that's another story).

anyway, so we ate, and went to prom... "midnight on bourbon street" was the theme, if i remember correctly. i don't even think we danced. as soon as we arrived, ceci had more friends there than i did.

we took pictures, and then was asked what the plan was.

"well, i brought my stereo, and some cd's... i thought maybe we could go to the lake and talk a while under the stars."

[i meant it, too. i had my boombox, plenty of batteries and cd's, a blanket to sit on, and some iced tea and glasses prepared in the back of my pathfinder. the thought of funny stuff hadn't even entered my head. i figured i'd be lucky if she kissed my cheek when i dropped her off that night.]

that's when i realized what kind of person ceci really was.

"well, okay... i think marissa and her date, and so-and-so and her date are going to come with us, okay?"
"um..."

so, i don't think we were at prom but about ninety minutes... i'd picked ceci up at seven, we ate, were at prom by nine, and left at about ten-thirty.

by eleven, we were at the lake.

we walked out onto the pier/deck/wood thing... she reached into her purse, and pulled out a pack of smokes. she pulled one out of the pack, sparked it, offered me one... i declined.

"so, marissa and everyone will be here, soon... what did you think we were going to do? stare at the water and talk all night?"
"um... not all night. i brought tea..."

her friends pulled up, and got out of their car. they walked up, greeted us, and then invited us to go to marissa's house to get drunk.

"i... i can't. i'm driving. besides, my dad would freak."
"well, sucks to be you. i'm going, okay? have a nice night!"

and with that, they were gone.



i stayed at the pier/dock/wood thing for another twenty minutes, and then got in the truck and left.

i'd made a few mixtapes - and i mean tapes... this is when you could still buy cassettes at major retailers... when there were major music retailers.

so, i popped in a tape, and drove off. it was about eleven-thirty, and was one of the few nights that my dad had completely lifted curfew.

interesting note: the following year, for senior prom, when i actually went with someone who didn't ditch me, he made me come home by midnight. lame.

anyway, i drove around for a few hours. i had to fill the gas tank at one point... i just drove and drove and drove... i even considered going to the beach, but the thought of having tons of couples doing god-knows-what on the beach on fucking prom night wasn't very appealing.

at one point, i ended up at the all-night wal-mart, thumbing through their cd section, looking at books, magazines, cheap jewelry, staring at cereal boxes...

finally, at about two-thirty, i'd had enough. i got back in the car, and started the drive home.



i stopped at the lake one last time... and by then, there were tons of cars in the parking lot, windows fogged-up, house-a-rockin'...

i didn't even turn the ignition off... i kept right on going.

i stopped at the whataburger closest to my house, and got the largest strawberry shake they could give me.

by now, my shirt was untucked, my cummerbund in the backseat, my tie undone...

i got home, unlocked the door, and walked in.

dad was in the living room, passed out on the recliner, as is his wont.

he was waiting up, of course. as soon as he heard the key enter the deadbolt, he woke.

when i walked in, he asked, "did you have fun?"

"sure."
"did you get ceci home all right?"
"sure."
"what did you do after prom ended?"
"just... drive around."
"gas in the truck?"
"yeah... full tank. here are your keys."
"all right. have a good night, son."

my folks don't know what happened to me that night, and they never asked. i was pretty embarrassed, so i never volunteered the information, either. i often wonder if dad thinks i was more popular than i actually was. maybe his boy went out and got some, or something...

i never spoke to ceci again. i didn't go out of my way to ignore her, but it sure seemed like she was ignoring me.



a lot of people i know today didn't go to prom. maybe they were "too cool" for that kind of thing, or saw it for the pompous display of pageantry that it is, and found better things to do with their time. maybe they were drunk, and were sneaking out of their houses, and did all the badass stuff i wish i could have done (our fence was ten-feet tall, and we had guard dogs in the backyard... yeah, i wasn't going anywhere). maybe they just weren't fortunate enough to have parents like mine, people who cared about them and wanted them to have good experiences. maybe they simply couldn't afford it, or didn't believe in it. maybe they just didn't go, and regret it to this very day.

my dad meant well, for sure. he worked hard his whole life so his sons could have normal lives.

his oldest boy would have otherwise stayed home and played guitar and video games that night. i was pretty good at the mutant league football, you know...

i was a late bloomer. to a certain extent, i still am.

if i were seventeen again (and i won't be, thank god), i don't think i would go through that again.

or maybe it was for the best. i'm not sure...

this surely doesn't compare to any of the fucked up things through which some people have had to endure. this isn't even close, and i don't pretend to think of myself as having any reason to feel less than fortunate for all i've been given.

but, you know... sometimes...

sometimes.