Peter, 17, is my brother. He’s off to the prom with a group of 7 hulking, fastidiously overdressed boys that all have inexplicably hot, blonde dates. Amidst a thick vapor of Axe body spray, these rap-lyric chanting dudes are embarking on a night of dinner at Macaroni Grill, grotesque dancing, and the symbolic celebration of their almost-pre-collegiate-young-adulthood; at the staggering expense of their/my parents. Rent is due, and I’m 25. Sigh.
CM: so you’re 17 huh.
CM: whats up with that.
Peter: I’m 17 years old.
CM: you’re a teenager. you’re about to go to prom. Whats going through your mind.
Peter: Um, my date is hot…i have a bottle of Bacardi, Aftershock, and Cuervo…i have a hotel room…i have money…im really excited…i dont know. Do you like my suit?
CM: You look like you work at the Verizon store.
Peter: Shut up man, you looked so lame in high school.
CM: Excuse me?
Peter: Yea, now you’re mister “Oh im an artist, im an artist.” Your prom picture is at grannies house though. It’s embarrassing bro… embarrassing. You looked like a gross Luke Perry. You looked like Puke Larry.
CM: Ugh…how do you even know who luke perry is?
CM: Of course. alright, alright. Lets move on.
What’s prom like now anyway? When i was in high school it was mostly about decadence…like buying the most decadent weed and smoking it out of the most decadent bowl that they sell in the most decadent head shop in baltimore.
Peter: That’s cool. We’re getting a limo.