Prom Action

Prom Action


Washington, D.C. June 1983, something possessed me to ask Blank to the prom and as the fragile and unsure words “would you go to the prom with me?” fell off my trembling lip. The m from the ending of the word prom seemed to meet the n from the word no in mid air. Years later after becoming reacquainted with my yearbook photo did it occur to me why, other than the fact that she didn’t know me, that she may have said no. I was not the guy whose looks got him into doors or panties. My looks where that of a sort of duck as my lips were grown man sized on a just above adolescent frame and face. Simply, she and many others may not have found me appealing. What is interesting about that though is that as history provides retrospect she and I seemed in the middle; not extremely popular, nor loud, and yet fashionable and searching. She was popular in a humble sort of way and this was her most appealing feature. It occurs to me that my wisdom was present back then as asking Blank had less to do with factors other than the dance, the dress up, but more to do with my assessment of a compatible date. Many people knew me, my looks were not atrocious, fashion was in me, and Blank and I were thin, tall, and brown. Later, it occurred to me that knowing a girl helps but on some fronts yet shyness crippled me when it came to certain girls.

Some girls I found easy to talk to and they seemed to capture most of my attention and while great for social training, they rarely held my interest very long or they fell into the category of proof. Proof girls showed the world my interest in women while proving to other girls that I belonged to someone. Girls and later women I found covet what is not theirs. This is not to say that effort with a few on point and main stream, progressive, beautiful, fashionable, and even kind young women were not launched, yet longevity and timing seem to be off and we ended most often as friends.

Later in life this trivial exercise of night time/ daytime girls became common in my travels and like many of those formative traits proved to be a leech on my character and confidence. Simply, it’s always easy when your meager existence dazzles someone opposed to her accomplishment seemingly mediocre. In my neighborhood of social misfit’s finishing school, working, dressing in the latest fashion, and being in the game were enough to establish a pedigree worthy of many offers of sex, girlfriends, and accolades. It occurred to me later that most of those meager accomplishments meant so much to those around me that the plight of so many capable African Americans is in a sort of social vacuum crying to get out. For those who get out the squandering of time leads to a high stakes game of catch up. Reminds me of the time back in 1992, newly married to my first wife my arduous attempts at understanding the stock market, mutual funds, and credit ratings.

What is ironic about the initial rejection from Blank was that I understood, hell she didn’t know me really. The nigger in me wanted to pitch a bitch and not go after that but, I did go with someone, Prom Date, who at one point adored me. Why is it that people tend not to like or love those who really love them initially? It’s almost like I felt she, Prom Date had to be nuts to be into me. On the other hand chasing someone who barely knew me was nuts as well. Was it about the challenge, the unknown, the chase, the newness, or simply did I need to know if I fit in on another level? Maybe one day these questions may come up and the answers revealed.