The Magical Night
chris lin posted in Personal on May 22nd, 2003
It is 9:32 PM on a warm sunday evening as I write this…
[b]Saturday, 12:45PM[/b]
I drag my posterior to Classics flower shop to find out you need the number on the receipt or the receipt itself to pick up the corsage and boutonniere. Great, since I typically lose anything that isn't attached to my body, I had given it to Kathy (prom date) earlier the week to make sure it isn't lost.
Well, gosh-diddly-arn, as I thought when I left the shop. How am I going to obtain the receipt or at least the order number? I know, I'll call Kathy like any normal person would do and ask her for the number. I pull out my Nokia cellphone which is the epitomy of suck (or a small vibrator) and dial the digits. Ring-Ring-Ring-Ring…..20 rings later, I knew one thing…..she wasn't home. Either that or someone has caller ID and is ignoring me. My mind is going crazy as I don't want to go home and wait to get the receipt, I did the next best thing….I drove to her house.
3 song later and 1 mile driven, I arrive to Kathy's house. I walk up to the door and reach for the doorbell and what is this? There was a piece of tape over the doorbell and with a note saying something along the lines of "Doorbell broken, please knock instead." Now usually, i wouldn't care BUT the door was like those gate type metal/steel doors so I'm wondering how I would knock on it? It's not exactly the best thing to knock onto seeing how it doesn't really make a sound and it just hurts you. So I sit there for like 5 seconds then I decide to knock on the window.
Tat-tat-tat. Hrm, seems no one is home. Right when I'm about to turn around to leave, a man open the door and I'm like whoa (ya, like how Neo does it). I assumed this is Kathy's father, which later turns out to be true from a phone conversation and I ask if Kathy was home. No, he replies (figures, I only tried to call a billion times). I ask if there is a way to contact her, and a phone call and a tour of her house later, I grab the receipt and leave the house. I quickly drive back to the florist shop to pick up what I have long waited for, that goddarn corsage and boutonniere. Then, home I head.
[b]2:50PM[/b]
After finishing watching I think it was Beastmaster (hell. yes.), I got ready to go to prom. I grab my overpriced pimp suit rental and head on over to the restroom. Start changing my shirt and found out that I hate these shirts with passion. The buttons were weird and the neck was tight but 20 mins later I'm dressed…fully…somewhat. Anyways, I leave the house after the typical pictures that I need to take whenever I wear something that cost more than 5 dollars. Out the door and into the batmobileŠ with my corsage/boutonniere and my tacky suit. The day has just begun.
I proceed to pick up my good friend Brian and his date and then proceeded to pick up my date (I don't know, people just seem to tell me it'll be a good thing to have your date with you at the prom, silly people). I arrive at Kathy's house and proceed to the door. As I get ready to knock on the window again, I noticed the door was opened. I peek in and see Kathy and…the parent (singular, couldn't find father, could care less). She automatically speaks in mandarin to me and I remembered that Iwas suppose to talk to the parents in chinese. I started busting out my chinese FOB accent and smile (Because we all know, if we don't smile, we look like a satistical demon thats planning on wisking their daughters away and do god knows what with them). After I assured the mother that I would take care of Kathy and…I think it was not lose her, whatever that means, we took some pictures and left. The day officially begins….again.
[b]3:35PM[/b]
The convoy arrives at Brandon's house because we were suppose to meet there and do one thing, pictures. I went inside said hello to everyone and then everyone went outside to take pictures and wait for the others to arrive. When outside, I noticed somehting, Brian was gone. One of two things could happen. He could be running home scared of the prom OR inside playing Brood Wars. I wish it was the first one. As I went back inside and head toward the computer room, I saw Brian…and he was playing Brood Wars…ditching his date, and playing Brood Wars. Annoyed, I tell him everyone is outside and taking pictures and he responds with "oh shit, for real? *click click* sweet, it's still a draw." You have to play BW to understand the last part. As he went out, he got greeted with an annoyed date and plenty of future teasing. The rest of the group arrives, we all take our pictures and head out to Cerritos Towne Center to do what? Correct, to go to the studio there and take MORE pictures.
[b]4:15 PM[/b]
When we arrived to Cerritos Towne Center to take pictures, I noticed that there seems to be an abundance of asians dressed up. Now, typical asians don't dress up, rather wear pants that are big enough to fit their family in and some fake nikes. It turns out that another high school was also having their prom and that studio pictures would be a two hour wait. FUCK THAT were the first 2 two words that popped into my profanity filled mind. We decided to screw studio pictures and go to our school gym to take early bird pictures.
As we arrived to the school gym, we found out that there was a small line and people were moving in and out quick. Sweet, we hop in the line, pay the bill and get in the other line for the pictures. The photographer was nice and told us to get closer while taking the picture. So I got closer and closer…and closer…until Kathy pushed me to the ground for being too close.
And that is what would've happened if I actually did it, but I didn't. We took the picture and headed toward dinner by the beach in an Italian restaurant called The Spark. It's not really as glamourous as you'd think. We had to get there within 5:30, which we didn't, and be out by 7:00 because another dinner reservation came. We actually arrived at 6:00PM and didn't leave around 7:30PM. Like I gave a fawk, I just wanted to eat peacefully, if the waitress started pushing us to hurry, she would have to deal with 20 pissed off seniors. After we finished our food, it was like 7:50PM and we headed the the dance.
Since we didn't have the exact directions there (the school gave us directions from school to prom) we asked Sean to give us directions. I'm never going to ask again. I got lost on the way because I couldn't find the street he told me. 45 minutes later and a tour around the city of Santa Ana, we arrived…and I was like "What. The. Hell." It appears the convoy has arrived in the ghetto. The buildings were pretty messed up and there was a Mexican party on the 2nd story of one of the buildings. When we reached the entrance of the dance building, I noticed I forgot my wallet and had to
run alll the way back to my car. I wish I had a gun or some type of weapon with me as I do not feel like getting jumped by some bum who would steal my money and use it for drugs and end up where he is…again…for the X amount of time. I got my wallet, sprinted back like a mexican being chased by the police and went into the building. The night, officially began.
[b]9:00 PM[/b]
The first thing I noticed about the building, Santa Ana Performing Arts Center was that it wasn't one story rather 3 stories (first was check off list and introduction, second was gambling and pictures, third was dance floor). Seemed weird, I always thought it'll be like one BIG place with only one story. Anyways, we took a group picture and then headed off to my personal hell, or the dance floor.
One thing you need to know about me, I have never been to a dance or something that involved dancing. So basically, I had like one week to learn how to dance. Which, didn't really bother me but everyone wanted to see me dance (which is obvious, you always want to see someone who never danced before, I wanted to see all my friends) but it made me more nervous. So for one week, I just soaked in all my advice my friends gave me but one stuck in which was "don't listen to anyone else, do your own thing." For all you guessing, it's Roy. Roy, you sly fuck. Seeing how I am usually around him the most, I watched how he dances because it makes me laugh and he does it because he wants to. I just picked up some of his style…or attempted to and just did my own thing on the dance floor. Frankly, I could care less what people think of me. If you are watching me rather than your own date, you got your own problems and I'll have to report that to your date. If you think my dancing sucks, then that's fine, your opinion wouldn't matter much to me anyways. I'd only *really* care if my date grabbed my hand and said, "Chris, let's sit down, your embarrassing me." Hell, I'd shoot myself if my date said that. But the whole night went good and I came out with a smile (the type of smile you get after you found out you fucked your bosses wife). Best part of the night
was probably slow dancing because ONE, it is so goddamn easy. It is, hold you date and sway. It doesn't get any easier than that. That and it felt nice, not sexually nice, just bubbly nice. Damn, if it felt sexually nice, I would have problems.
Anyways, that concludes my entry. This big ass journal entry. We didn't do much after the prom, just went to Denny's where Chris P. decided he wanted one of everything on the menu and the girls all decided my food equals their food. I could care less, I was too tired to fight for my food, so Michelle ate it all. I took Kathy home after that and went to Brandon's where
I did nothing for one hour and decided to go home (worst afterparty EVER). Anyways, if you are still reading, I commend you. You either have no life or really care……you have no life.
[edit: I'm still a virgin, fuck all you people who asked, I'm not like that, only 99% of the time.]
Leave a Response