ugly at prom
This is not something I wanted to write. It’s been more like a fart I’ve been trying to hold in while surrounded by decent company. Hoping the urge to share this would pass but instead it grows stronger until I sit down and it starts to escape like some metaphorical gas about to pollute anyone dumb enough to be nearby.
The problem started, like it does every year around this time, when I see the local boys and girls getting all dressed up for prom. Why it always leaps into my head I’m not sure but it does, the powerful realization that it must really suck to be an ugly girl on prom night.
I’m not saying that life is a party for the other 364 days, but prom must throw some existential spotlight on being unattractive.
Then I saw her. The High Priestess of Ugly. Poor fucking girl looked just like Tom Petty with a long blonde wig and two small titties. Not even the Hard Promises Tom Petty but the right-this-minute Tom Petty. It wasn’t that I was trying not to stare at her- staring was assumed, I was trying not to have my jaw hang slack with drool pooling in the corners.
She was outside taking pictures with a group. That camera was in for a long evening. Then I did a quick headcount. Five girls. Four boys.
She didn’t have a date but was going anyway. I could have cried. I totally admired her pluck in not letting the fact that she was too ugly for words stop her from enjoying an important evening with her friends. That wasn’t why the tears were gathering forces behind my seemingly-impassive eyes.
I was crying for the boys. They had, unknowingly and against their wills, entered into a game of cockblock roulette with each other. One of their dates was going to have to hang out with this ugly girl and keep her entertained. One of their dates was going to have to take this ugly girl home so while they all laughed and smiled for the camera, they also were shooting each other looks to see which of these poor condom-in-the-wallet-hoping-to-be-used bastards it was going to be.
And all the while she was galloping around with her Tom Petty face ruining every fucking picture she was in. You could see the parents trying to invent reasons to separate the kids for photos so she didn’t have to be in them. Each parent gripping the camera with a “Can I get ONE fucking picture without that Tom Petty bitch in it?” look on their face.
It sounds as though I’m mad at her when in fact I’m really not. My heart aches for her carrying around that face every day. The problem is I imagine that she’s the kind of girl that likes her marshmallows at room temperature so when she is sitting around a campfire she won’t even bother to stick it on a stick and pretend to roast it for even a second and will just sit there eating them right out of the bag while everyone else is dutifully holding theirs over the flames until it inevitably catches fire or falls in.
See what ugly does? It makes you feel like a bad person because if the girl is ugly enough you become a bad person.
Especially at prom season.
She probably doesn’t mind that TV and movies are fagging up vampires and werewolves.
See? There it is again.
I went to prom. Luckily the world doesn’t mind ugly guys too much. I still remember the blue tux, blue ruffled shirt and one-size-too-large blue velvet bow tie. What a fucking mess I was… but it was ok. There were ugly girls at my prom to take the heat off me.
But nobody was in the league with the girl I was staring at the other day. I need some sort of mental mint to get her out of my head. Her face disproved a loving god right there and then. If someone accidentally shot her, they’d walk back and shoot her in the head just to make sure she was dead.
And probably not do any jail time.
I’m really not as terrible a person as I am when I see an ugly girl at prom.