the end of the world will come at night time

i got beat up once before. (i thought that was a very just/funny opening sentence, laugh if you agree.) seriously though, growing up i was never a fighter. in middle school i punched some kid in the head becasue he towel whipped me. when my brother and i would fight, he would throw punches and i would ridicule him. psychological warfare, it worked most of the time.

the only time i was really in a fistfight was the typical "meet me after school at the tracks so we can fight over a girl." i guess i was a junior in high school, some dude that i didnt like very much and whose name i cannot recall for the life of me had recently had a falling out with girlfriend. for whatever reason, i seriously cannot recall any right now, i liked her. he took this as an affront to his manhood and challenged me to a fight.

i didnt want to accept it, but there really wasnt any other choice. so i agreed to meet him, but he seemed dirty so i called upon some friends and friends of friends to accompany me to the battle site. remembering it, it was hilarious. just like an 80's movie, his group of people were waiting for my group of people in the clearing. there was a warm-up fight between one of my friends and one of his friends, my friend lost - but lost gracefully. then it was my turn.

i was terrified. i dont even think i threw a punch, but he certainly did. psychological warfare wasnt going to work here. i went quickly to the ground and after that the fight was called. i wasnt hurt too bad, i never really had too much pride so that wasnt even damaged too much. and the end result? his ex-girlfriend, cara massa (the girl i had a crush on) asked me to the prom. apparently, sometimes when you win you really lose and sometimes when you lose you really win. and sometimes when you win or lose you actually tie.

this pre-story is just some buildup for me to talk about going to prom. why in the hell am i thinking about this now, and thinking about it enough to write about it? well, at some point on this trip - i dont remember when or from who - i learned that this girl cara was dead. she committed suicide, at least thats what i hear. i havent talked to her or really even thought about her since the day after prom. and the reason i am writing about it now is because i am near where we had our day after prom thing. you know, after prom your party goes out somewhere and does something? well, we went to turkey run state park.

so, lets hear this story out. and, remember, as with all the stories of my past some of this is certainly made up because i dont remember it all but you'll get the gist of it.

i am pretty sure she asked me to the prom. i am pretty sure of this because i am pretty sure i have never asked anyone in my life out on a proper date. thats something i have been thinking to work on, but it just seems so funny to ask someone out properly. so, i was probably pretty surprised by this turn of events. i was 16 (i had to do some math to figure out how old i was, so dont try to prove me wrong) and i really had given that much thought yet to girls. i was too busy figuring myself out at the time to complicate it with members of the opposite sex, or i was high.

she and i had never gone out or even hung out with each other before prom. i really dont even know why i wouldve had a crush on her or why she wouldve asked me to the prom. but we worked it out, talking in the hallways. we got a two other couples - friends of mine who were seniors - to round out our prom party. although she asked me to the prom, the burden of buying tickets and renting a limo and stuff was on me.

so i went to my dad. my dad knows people, and it just so happened that he knew someone with a limo and he would work out a deal with the guy and secure it for our prom party. because the limo was at my house and my parents are cool people the three couples met at my house to take pictures and leave for the prom. and we were got up too. fancy dresses, slick black tux's and all. i had a cane and a top hat. i felt suave, even if looking at the pictures today i feel like an idiot.

part of this has to do with my hair. i was coming out of being a loner/hippie/stoner kid into being a more well known punk rock stoner kid. so, i still had long hair. hair longer than it is today, although i didnt have any facial hair yet. i wasnt yet ready to cut off my hair, but i had to do something with it, so i got someone (perhaps even my future girlfriend, melissa) to braid it. hundreds of little braids with little colored rubberbands at the bottoms. again, i felt cool. but in reality i was ridiculous. this type of thing wasnt new for me, i had been doing cornrows and other types of braids in my hair for awhile.

so, dressed like a fool we were all in a limo and off to the prom. since we were high most of the time in regular life there is no reason for me to think that we werent then. i am also pretty sure that we were drinking because our limo driver, my dads friend, had a ready supply of alcohol...and he wasnt holding back. i do not remember a single thing about the prom. there are pictures to prove we were there, i still have these photos in portland. i dont think cara and i took couples shots, but i was in a group shot with "all my friends." of the twenty or so guys in the picture i could probably name twelve of them then, maybe four now.

i think we left rather quickly, i dont think we danced at all, i am positive i was a bad date. but, i also think that i was finding out that i didnt even really like this person that i got beat up over and received the consolation prize of paying her way and entertaining her for a night. so, my night wasnt going awesome. we found our limo driver and had him drive us - the three couples - to the after prom dinner. we went to the house of kobe and i am pretty sure that we met some of those guys from my group picture there. but by this point i dont beleive i was really with the world anymore.

we were at dinner a long time and afterwards we were going to go to a party. however, there was a problem. our limo driver was, by now, completely wasted and passed out in the driver seat. we deliberated for a little bit and decided to push him aside, take his liquor and drive the limo ourselves. it wasnt like he came from a company or anything. so, this happened. i didnt do the driving, one of the other guys did, he wasnt completely sober himself - but what a good prom story. part of the deal that my dad had made with the limo driver was that he could stay at my parents house that night. so we took him back to my parents house, got him inside on the couch and then the six of us deliberated for a few moments.

we decided that we would take the limo back out and go partying. although i was the one that would be most on the line should anything bad happen - and it was bound too - i was all for this idea. we were outside again and just pulling away from the house when my dad came out of the house. awesome as he may be he quickly identified some shady business going on. he took me aside and i told him that the limo guy was drunk and we had to take over the limo. then i asked my dad (as if it were his limo) if we could continue with our plan and take the limo out partying.

unfortunately, he said no. he encouraged all of us to stay the night at the house. we were allowed to drink there and there were plenty of places to crash. the entire upstairs was pretty much my domain. there were two bedrooms and a bathroom, my little sister that lived with my mom had the other bedroom and wasnt there a whole lot. it had bunkbeds, and i had three couches, a bed, and a cubby hole. i dont remember if everyone stayed, by i did. and i think cara did. but, unlike the way many prom stories end, nothing happened between us. we never even kissed one another. not ever.

the next day our group reconnected and drove down to turkey run state park in southern indiana. this was a popular day-after-prom thing. we went hiking and such throughout the park. i think we may have even camped out there. but i am not so sure. and now, here i am, near turkey run and thinking about prom. twelve years later, i cannot remember the names of the people i was with and my date is dead by her own hand. i guess thats one person i wont be reconnecting with.