The prettiest, most nongeeky people usually set the bar at prom.
But in a benevolent twist of fate, the guy and girl with the most cringe-inducing memories snagged the king and queen titles at Decatur’s prom for grown-ups Friday.
Theresa Schaffer took home the crown for her prom-night fiasco, which began fatefully on a spring evening in 1986 when her date showed up in a lavender tux wearing “guy-liner.”
“I didn’t think anything of it at the time,” she wrote on one of the nine poster boards on display for voting and judging. “It was in Miami during the ‘Miami Vice’ era, after all. He came out to me six years later.”
Wearing the same white lace dress she wore that night, Schaffer joined a group of 30- to 60-somethings at the Solarium in Oakhurst for the prom “do-over.”
The New York Times reported this month that adults across the country are flocking to prom 2.0s. At most events, the crowds take the opportunity to heart, getting gussied up in sparkly gowns and rented tuxes and arriving in limos. But Friday night’s crowd lent a signature Decatur-style charm to “the best night of your life,” punctuated by rewards to those with the worst memories of their original prom.
“I hope no one takes this too seriously,” organizer Michelle Adams said a day before the party.
Adult proms are gaining ground in the heartland, in places such as Fort Wayne, Ind., and Green Bay, Wis., where you’re more likely to see people wearing the token wrist corsage on their sleeves than untoward stories of cops, bra-stuffing and puking. But here, these experiences were brandished with a kind of gleeful pride, stirring up confessional conversations over the spiked punch and Victory beers donated for the event.
“The prom itself was fine,” said Kristin Leydig Bryant, a business consultant from East Atlanta who wore a bright blue strapless dress and lots of blue eye shadow. “But then my date ditched me at the after-party. I found him sitting out front throwing up in the street. The next thing I knew there were blue lights all around us. He got taken away in the police car, and I got a ticket for underage drinking. I had one Bartles & Jaymes wine cooler. This was a small town in Tennessee, so it was in the newspaper. I got called into the guidance counselor’s office the following Monday and got kicked out of the National Honor Society.”
Friday’s fundraiser was promoted on the popular Decatur Metro blog and benefited the Decatur Education Foundation’s Tools for Success program, which helps Decatur students buy necessary items such as eyeglasses and laptop computers. The foundation received $1,400 from the event that drew 70 people.
Money was collected through the $40 tickets, and votes were cast for the king and queen by placing cash in Chinese takeout containers hung over the poster boards of the worst prom stories.
When the evening began, only women had attempted to write their teen tragedies, but after a few drinks, some of the guys got up the nerve to jot down theirs.
Steven Salcedo was named king for this tale of woe:
“My prom was an evening of many firsts. Watch yourselves, not that first,” he wrote. “The first time I ever rode in a limousine; the first time I’d ever bought flowers. For our prom dinner we decided to eat Japanese, another first for me. Before the sushi came out, they brought out a plate of green mush. ‘Great,’ I thought, ‘I love guacamole.’ Every one of my teenage nose hairs felt like it had been singed with napalm. My eyes watered until I couldn’t see my date’s face. I was too embarrassed to say anything, so I suffered in silence. To this day the sight of wasabi makes me cry.”
After his story was read aloud, a room full of sympathizers cheered Salcedo as he stepped up to receive the crown and take a turn across the dance floor with Schaffer to Abba’s “Dancing Queen.”
Twenty-one years later, prom was finally something to enjoy.
About the Author
