Dance with a dud

I went to the dance and may I just say, what a loser! I really should have known judging by his method of invitation that this guy wasn’t going to be my chivalrous knight, but my goodness what a disaster.

Leading up to the dance I was pretty excited, and I suppose optimistic. I knew I didn’t have any friends going but I figured it would be a great chance to make some new ones and have a great time. I borrowed a dress from T and got ready at her house. She sent me off a brave and confidant woman. When I arrived at some complete strangers house there was no sign of my date. I asked around and some people didn’t know the name and others just didn’t care. I felt pretty close to turning back when I heard a boisterous chant coming from the backyard. In this weather? Anyway, sure enough there was my date – heels over head over a keg. Nice. When he bothered to look up he hollered, ‘hey dude!’ and went back to his business.

What about my purple silk dress says dude to you?

For the rest of the party I sat in the kitchen watching my date and his other dudes project beer like sprinklers and try to pants each other. A few girls would ask me if I was okay which should have been comforting but instead just helped my confidence plummet to the floor.  I did learn through my silence that someone had ordered a limo bus and we’d all be heading over shortly. A limo bus sounded pretty cool so I decided to wait it out. Eventually the party started filtering towards the front door and I expected me and my date’s crew (non of whom had dates themselves) to follow.
Clearly not. These boys had their own method of transportation and sure as hell weren’t going to pay the $10. One of the guys had a pick up truck that I was expected to ride in the back of. I probably looked like I was about to cry, thinking of ruining T’s dress and they let me sit in the front…which was covered in dog hair.
Of course we don’t go straight to the dance. We stop in front of a strip mall and I’m thinking, okay boutonnières from winners, but once more my optimism lead me astray. My date yells at me from the back, “hey dude, get out and go to the beer store already!” I didn’t sign up for this. I tell them that I don’t have a fake ID and someone else should go. The only guy who looked like he could be old enough apparently already had a ban on him entering.

Who the hell have I gotten involved with here?

My date gets out of the back to come talk to me. The most interaction we’ve had since I got here. He whispers, but I’m sure everyone heard to, “pull my dress down a few inches and get in there!”
Without blinking I walk into the beer store, ask to use their bathroom and stay there for half an hour. I’m pretty sure I heard some voices looking for me but easily resigning.
I hadn’t even made it to the dance and this was already the worst school social event I’d ever attended. Screw this guy, screw his Neanderthal friends and screw this heartless student body. I tried to branch out and take a chance and I end up in the foul toilet of a beer store. It’s difficult not to resign to the life of being a hermit after a night like that, but I know after a night with the girls I’ll be able to laugh about it and put this night behind me. My date is getting deleted off my BBM immediately and hopefully I’ll never have to see him again.