I didn’t want to go — but I’m glad I did
It all started in September when my friend and I were eating a piece of Chantilly cake at Whole Foods and discussing the activities she must endure as a senior. That is when I became her date for prom. I really didn’t want to go.
To begin with, Capital High School prom tickets are ridiculously expensive — $40. The high price of the ticket restricts many students from attending prom and places an unreasonable burden on students who choose to attend. Prom is already expensive with the cost of the dress, the shoes and the dinner. There shouldn’t be such an added cost with the ticket. Nevertheless, I donated a kidney and bought my ticket.
The week leading up to prom was actually quite exciting. I enjoyed watching my fellow students dress in monotone colors or as their favorite memes. It added to the school spirit. The halls buzzed with talk of where the best place to go dress shopping was (Goodwill provided me with an excellent choice), or where pre-prom dinner reservations should be made in correlation of time and travel to the Santa Fe Community Convention Center, where our prom was held.
The day of prom was tremendously busy. I woke up early to attend my sister’s dog’s birthday party in Albuquerque and only gave myself 30 minutes to get ready. I rushed home and began the tedious task of putting on makeup and preparing my look. At a quarter past 7, we departed to pick up our remaining friend. We arrived at prom around 8 p.m. The convention center was overbooked and, therefore, did not have adequate parking to house the attendees. My group ended up parking at least a quarter of a mile away, which, given we were walking on the uneven bricks of downtown in the dark and wearing heels, offered the potential for one of us to snap an ankle.
Once inside, Capital’s prom was actually a lot of fun. I ended up dancing with my friend, who proved to be quite the social butterfly. As the night progressed, we posed for goofy pictures in front of a backdrop set up by student council and attempted to dance to the ridiculous rap music. Eventually the king and queen were announced, and there were crowns and applause and cheers. It was very nice and simple, and nothing was overdone.
St. Michael’s High School’s prom was going on nearby, and I would have been a bad journalist if I hadn’t tried to crash it. A small group of us casually paced the 300 feet to the adjacent door and made our way to the dance floor. The room was practically empty, besides a densely populated area of folks posing for photos. The timing was impeccable. I was there for the dance of the St. Michael’s prom king and queen. It was like a screenshot from Grease. I crept out after being caught by an adult chaperone (I pleaded ignorance, which helped). Once back inside Capital’s prom, our principal informed me that most St. Michael’s students had sneaked into our prom. Maybe ours was more entertaining.
As prom drew to a close, my group headed to IHOP. Of course, the restaurant was flooded with teenagers in formalwear, and the waitresses and waiters were beyond busy. I admit, I enjoyed sneaking into St. Michael’s prom and watching my English teacher dance with his granddaughter. But, most of all, I enjoyed spending time with my friends who are about to graduate and leave me and Santa Fe behind. And next year, I will be one of those seniors leaving my school and town, too.