Stamped: May 1st, 2007 | Toggle Similar
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So I'm pretty sure that today was the date that one of my proms were held on oh so many years ago. I think maybe it was my senior prom.

I thought for sure that the man I loved was going to ask me to my senior prom. We'd gone to junior prom together and I'd been in love with him since we had the same homeroom in 6th grade.

But alas, one day before play rehearsal for The Crucible, he asked another girl and broke my heart right in half. But I'd already determined in my head that I was going to have the perfect senior prom so I got together after tennis practice with some friends and went through a list of possible prom dates. My teammates and I settled on a sophomore we'll call Jamal for now.

Jamal's older sister was a few years older than me and we'd done plays together before she graduated. I'd known Jamal since 8th grade or so and never had I thought of him as anything other than Leslie's little brother.

But now he was 16 and tall, and even though he was a sophomore to my senior, he drove a brand new beautiful red Camaro. (I was a high schooler in the Deep South. Camaros were awesome.) He was also black. My parents would be ecstatic and the prom pictures could finally be framed and put out for public viewing.

So I decided to ask him out.

I did so over the announcements one day. My best friend and I did the school announcements each morning over the intercom. After I rambled through the pledge, I called my future date up to the office.

"Jamal Johnson, can you please come up to the office?"

Announcements finished, I turned to see my future date behind the counter that separated student from faculty. I leaned over the counter and rested my chin in my hands.

"What's up Jamal?"

"Nothing much."

"So I'm the one that called you up here. I was just wondering–do you want to go to the prom with me? It's in like a month or so."

"Uh…sure. OK."

"Cool." I wrote my number down on a post-it and stuck it to the pocket of his polo shirt. "Call me later this week and we can discuss. My dress is silver."

Now I had a prom date.

We never hung out before or after that one date. He picked me up in his stylin' car and while at dinner with all my friends at an expensive Atlanta restaurant, he leaned over to whisper that his dad hadn't given him enough money to cover dinner and the limo that was to be picking our crew up after dinner. So I paid for half of my own prom dinner.

Then we missed the limo pickup because the friends we were following to the pickup spot decided that the speed limit on Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta was around 95. So we drove to the prom spot ourselves.

That year our prom was held at the 755 Club at Turner Field, home of the Atlanta Braves. It was a cool venue but I was still resentful that no one had taken my idea of partying prom style on the turf at the Georgia Dome seriously. Jamal and I had a fine time driving up and hanging out. He had a crush on this girl Katie from my tennis team. And I thought that his best friend Alan was pretty cute.

We arrived at the prom and quickly lost each other. I was all over the man I'd wanted to go with and God knows where Jamal went off too. We danced together once and then saw each other again at the night's end. We went to one after-party together. Since this was before I turned into an alcoholic, I did a once-through and decided that I was ready to go home.

So the night ended and there were no kisses or even hugs really. Jamal left the party and I went with other friends to sleep over at someone else's house. I'd had a perfectly acceptable time and was completely content to never see Jamal again.

This was before I found out that he told his friend Alan that I was obsessed with him (Alan). Jamal had this kid under the impression that I was completely stalking him even though the only time I saw him during the day was during class change between third and fourth period. Jamal spread all kinds of nasty rumors about my obsessive tendencies. The entire cross country team was looking at me like I was crazy. (Alan was big into running). And since I'm not one to let bullshit lie, I immediately told my brother and my cousins about the trouble this asshole was causing. Jamal went to church with my cousins. And I'm not saying that I know anything about anything but I did happen to hear that some hoodlum keyed Jamal's precious Camaro after church one Sunday.

Too bad.

PS: I've run into Jamal once since graduating high school. At a Ludacris concert at my college. I was six vodka tonics hidden in Powerade bottles into being wasted and I turned around and found that I was standing right beside Alan and Jamal–they didn't even go to my college. I began to laugh very loudly and told my friend, "How funny is it when you realize that you make the BIGGEST MISTAKES in high school?"

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