You may be wondering, why the fuck would my shame being immortalized in my yearbook make me happy? The one upside to this was that the queen and king got a special page in the yearbook. After that we had to slow dance together, because it was a tradition, and we were laughed at through the whole thing. I get dragged up on stage, and they give me my sash and shitty plastic tiara, and they give Bev her crown. Like I said, I'm still impressed they managed to pull this bullshit off. Somehow some jackass managed to convince our entire senior class, even the ones who really wanted to win, to throw all of that away for a joke. This was a really shitty thing to do, as Bev had short hair at the time, and as I said before I got beat up a lot. I do mean prom queen by the way, the king was Bev. And wouldn't you know they elected me as prom queen. Before I could escape the hell that was the awkward single people part of the dance floor, they announced our prom queen. I mean, the punch was already spiked, so it didn't matter all that much, but I was still pissed my nice whiskey got ruined by some shitty kool aid.Īs our "magical" night went on, Stan, who I've known since I could walk pretty much, tells me that I need to stop moping and at least try to have some fun. I saw Eddie get dragged into dancing with this one girl, and then I proceeded to spike the punch by accident. I mean it was fine by me, it made it a lot easier to pretend I was into girls when I knew my flirting would go nowhere.
Bev probably would, but her and Ben were off being cute so I couldn't interrupt that. Some of you may be wondering why I wasn't dancing, and the reason was that not a single girl at that school would be caught dead dancing with me. I filled out my little paper slip and went to go find a deserted corner to drink in. So I get to prom, and on the way in, they had these little ballot boxes set up to vote for prom queen and king. Flash forward to prom night, I'm in a shitty rental tux, because I didn't want to spend any more of my weed money on a dance I didn't even want to go to. This means the kids who regularly beat me up and spray painted slurs on my locker knew for a fact I was going to be at prom. So everyone at our entire school knew if you were going to prom, and if you had a date. Before you say, why did they care if you had a date, this was a small Christian town in the nineties, it was just like that. After school they set up this shitty table that looked like it was about to collapse, and took record of every single person that bought a ticket, and whether or not they were bringing a date. The way prom tickets worked at our shitty little high school was they sold them two weeks in advance, for one day. Keep in mind that bickering is essentially flirting between the two of us, because I immediately agreed to go due to the fact I was obnoxiously in love with him. Yes this is the same Eddie I'm engaged to, because when he found out I was the only one in our group not planning on going, he said and I quote "you're a pussy then Tozier, and my mother isn't into pussy". The only ones without dates was me, and my friend Eddie. And then a few of my other friends were able to score dates, so most of us were going to prom. Then my friend Bev said she was gonna go with her boyfriend, who was also part of our gaggle of dweebs. So I had no intention of going to prom, I was planning on getting stoned with my friends and throwing a party for the seven of us. Now, the story itself is pretty depressing, but I promise I'll fit a few dick jokes or something in there to make it bearable. So I'm going to tell a little story from my senior year of high school, because to this day, the level of coordination behind the shit that went down at my senior prom impresses me.
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