I have been inundated with prom pictures on Facebook for the last week or so. Not that I have any objection to prom or anything like that, but I never went, so I'm not quite sure what the big deal is. I have decided, therefore, to make up an imaginary prom story to tell future generations. Sort of like a parable, in order to teach the kids about the dangers of what could happen at prom. Here it goes:


When I was in my senior year of high school, I was the prettiest girl on campus. All of the boys wanted to be my date, but I knew that my education was much more important than impressing some silly guy, so I stayed at home and did my chores, while being respectful to my elders and always finishing my homework and getting all As. Close to the end of the year, however, I decided to accept one special boy's invitation to the prom. He wasn't the captain of the football team, and he didn't drive a fancy car, but he was on the chess team, and academics were important to him, too, so I knew we'd have a lot to talk about. I picked out the prettiest dress I could find. It was important to me that I not show any skin at all, so it had a very high neck and was long to the floor. I didn't want to risk looking like I wasn't a nice girl, after all.


The day of the big dance arrived, and I was very excited. After finishing all of my homework for the weekend, I got dressed in my new dress, making sure to wear a slip underneath, just for that added bit of coverage, and I lightly applied makeup. As we all know, too much makeup tends to change one's appearance, and not for the better, unless one is interested in a career on the streets or at the circus. My date rang the doorbell at the agreed-upon time and came in to meet my parents and have "the talk" with my Dad. You know, the one where he agrees to limit his physical contact with me to a polite handshake at the end of the evening, and he promises he'll have me back home by ten p.m. sharp. Just the usual things.


We drove to the dance and had a lovely time, talking about physics and the probability of life on other planets. It was just super!


Then, I made the mistake of drinking a cup of punch that contained alcohol. I woke up several days later from a coma, and was informed that I was pregnant and had herpes and gonorrhea and I would have a bad case of facial hair for the rest of my life. Oh, and I was fat, too. Really really fat. I had syphilis, as well. A terrible case of syphilis. My date also died from liver poisoning, which can totally happen if you drink at the prom. Did I mention I pooped in my prom dress? Yeah, that too.


All from drinking one glass of punch. Think about it, won't you?