Hi there, Annapolis!
It’s that time of year, when you’re relieved because you’re finally done with the taxes but super annoyed because now you’re going to have to carry on with your job while it’s beautiful outside.
Well, guess what?
Ehhhh, I won’t rub it in your faces. It’s too beautiful out today. But you wouldn’t know that.
Anyway, it’s about time to say goodbye to another school year, and with the end of the school year comes the customary end of school dance–the prom.
You may be wondering what on earth a freshman is doing at his school’s prom. Well, turns out that my school is as small as the dickens, so if it were to be a prom for seniors or upperclassmen only, it would be really small, and there are several disadvantages to that:
- Not enough noise to drown out that one girl who is apparently going through major drama by the women’s restroom
- Less chance of me mixing up guys’ coats and going home with one that has money in the pocket
- One guy can monopolize the requests and treat the promgoers to an entire evening of bluegrass
In other words, my classmates and I are the only ones who can save the seniors from an entire night of death by banjo. Don’t you think that’s worth letting a few freshmen in? When you think about it, we’re not that bad. We’re like an episode of Wheel of Fortune–we’re short, inoffensive, and we make you feel smugly superior about your intelligence.
Well, let’s talk about the Loews hotel, where this prom was held. The Loews is a very classy place, because it had valets, and yet not overly classy, because the valets weren’t wearing bow ties. To be honest, I didn’t get to see much of the hotel other than the reception room, but if you judge a hotel by its parking circle, I can honestly say that the Loews is for you.
Loews rolled out the red carpet for us, though, and everything they had to offer was very nice. We were greeted by a giant arch of balloons in the shape of a star, which was about the extent to which the “theme” (A Night Under The Stars) went.
Loews was also kind enough to provide us with an ice sculpture (When you’re paying $40 apiece, you expect such things), also in the shape of a star, but a shooting star at that.
(Sidebar: Seth Perry’s Political Predictions: Writing that last sentence, I just foresaw next elections Joe the Plumber–a five-year-old who’s against gun control because he doesn’t want the government to take away “shooting stars.” Count on it. You know Sarah Palin will run with it, especially if the definition of “shooting star” can be stretched to include her shooting moose from a helicopter.)
The facility was clean and organized, decorated pristinely with glitter and balloons. Not only that, they were helium balloons, which meant they stayed on the ceiling. This prevented the entire musical score of the night from being POP POP POP POP POP POP POP.
For food, too, they pulled out all the stops. I didn’t think it was customary to serve chicken fingers at a dance, but Loews did it anyway, along with french fries, mozzarella sticks, and a creation that I was (and still am) unfamiliar with and will therefore refer to simply as “cheese potatoes”. Not only that, there was a fine assortment of sodas. My only regret was that I was paying $40 for there not to be a bartender–it would have been a nice touch, but self-serving ourselves soda worked fine (until, of course, Loews underestimated the soda-drinking power of our student body and ran out of glasses. Finally, and most importantly, they featured some lavish desserts. A table of cupcakes was open all night long, and a chocolate fondue fountain (to which I paid many visits) opened at 10. Highlight of my night? Chocolate fondu-ing a cupcake, an experience I highly recommend to anyone with a major sweet tooth.
The dance itself was fun, as always. As I mentioned in my article at homecoming, there was the crazy, sweating, grinding orgy in the middle, and the far more innocent (though just as energetic) dancing on the outskirts. Much of our dancing appears to be just a random melange of fist pumps, jumping around, and real and imagined dance moves, but I promise you there’s a method to our madness. Heck if I know what it is, though.
The DJ and his light show from www.djdelights.com were both wonderful. He played a great selection of hip, top-40 songs, except for Miley Cyrus’ Party in the USA. He played that twice, which was two times too many. One of the best things about going to a dance is watching an older DJ trying to be hip and connect with the kids.
DJ: “What up, [name of school]? We gonna be crankin’ up some fly tunes, so grab yo’ homies and putcho’ hands together for some….salsa music!”
Salsa music and connecting with teenagers can only be put in the same sentence when you’re saying that you can’t put them in the same sentence under any other circumstances. Besides, you really don’t have to talk like that to earn our respect. We like it just fine when you play the “fly tunes” and let us handle the modern vernacular.
I’d like to close this column with some pictures of Loews in full prom regalia.
Got any fond prom memories? Want to warn me about the health risks of chocolate-covered cupcakes? Leave a comment, I love to get ‘em.