Making choices.

Sore calves, sore knees, sore me. My feet are throbbing. Blisters line the outside of each foot. Tired soles hum with dull pain and my toes have not regained their natural fan-like distribution. It was a good night.

I never went to prom. My decision not to go has never been one which I have regretted. Pro-Choice Prom was my first and it was perfect (and much cheaper than actual prom). Who says you can not attend prom at 23? Perhaps it was because everyone there was old enough to shed insecurities and dance their pants off to the flawless 80s/90s cover band. It seems like many people my age just do not care as much about what others think of them as they did in high-school. Or, perhaps it was because everyone there was old enough to consume the provided alcohol.

Whatever the reason, it was a great time. I loved "Dancing with Myself" and with my friends. I loved the fact that my hair was wet with the evidence that I had been moving in heels for two hours. There were moments throughout the night during which I would have to regain myself and fight to continue having fun. Watching couples still hurts. I won.

As I stood by the snack table, a guy walked up and asked, 

"So, any suggestions?"

 

The table consisted of chips, pretzels and cupcakes.

 "Oh, I don't know. I haven't eaten any of it. Um, you might want to go for the fake bagels. Don't eat these. I hear that they make for bad breath." 

He reached into his pocket and proudly presented me with a can of Starbucks mints: "Don't worry. I came prepared." 

"Ah." 

Thank god he didn't pull out a condom from the table at the door. 

With a raised his eyebrow he boasted, "You know, they're discontinuing these so I went to Starbucks and bought about ten tins!" He guffawed at himself for being so silly to do such an outrageous thing. 

"Oh, like the Forever stamps," I replied. 

"What?" 

"Oh, well the Forever stamps last forever. Gotta load up before they're all gone." 

He thought that was hil-A-rious. Or maybe he was just hoping that he might be able to use the condom he did not pull from his pocket during the first part of our lame conversation. Apparently he came alone. I noticed him looming and from time to time he would playfully kick a balloon into our small dancing group. He hovered about all the women in the room; his balloons were being passed around. Starbucks mints. Oh, I'm not worried.

This prom was neither awkward nor embarrassing. It was as fun as a prom ought to be. Thank you Planned Parenthood for a fabulous Saturday night. Regretfully, I will not be in need any of the provided condoms tonight.