The other weekend I was kinda down. I wasn’t nearly as drunk as I wanted to be at Smiley 80’s, and didn’t end up in one of those sick 5-C party hookups that everyone else seemed to be workin’ and lovin’ on the dancefloor. My hopes of secret crushes campus-mailing me mix tapes weren’t panning out either. I pretty much agreed with some friends that I would fall for any girl who sent me a mix tape with the essential five crush songs: "brand new love" (Sebadoh), I got a crush on you (beat happening), allergic to love (Eric’s trip), entire (the Spinanes), my forgotten favorite (velocity girl). Well, the bitch(es) didn’t mail ‘em and I didn’t fall in love.

So, with hopes for indie rock love and drunken college hook ups crushed, I realized I needed an alternate plan. I needed to do everything that i was doing wrong–be the drunkest person at the party, listen to bad music, and start a coke habit in the bathroom. I needed to go to prom.

I guess I should admit that the prom idea wasn’t exactly my own. Credit has to go Angela Lawrence ’00 who had this great idea while trying on some new sunglasses at Claire’s Accessories (and no, she didn’t buy them. That fabulous pair you see her wearing around town was from another fine accessories store at the mall we’re going to keep as our little secret). If all these eleventeen girls are going to prom, why can’t we? Prom is the best night of high school, and for many adolescents who community college is a stretch for, the best night of their lives. Anyways, Angela’s logic was impeccable, and we decided to return to Montclair Plaza the next weekend in search of dates.

It’s pretty late in the game to think you’re going to find someone still without a prom date. The only ones left this time of the year are the math club, the techies, and that boy who still eats glue. This is just not prom material.

So we had to adapt a plan. Like any good teen movie villain, we decided to couple bust. We’d start by hanging out in the food court, scoping out the possibilities, and when we found potential suitors, bust them up. Angela could easily convince the boy to dump his girlfriend for her. After all, she is the older, college aged girl. The dumped girl would be so sad that she lost her prom date (nobody really cares about the relationships around prom time, just having a date) that when I went to apologize for what Angela did, she wouldn’t be able to resist my offer to take her to the prom instead. Boy gets hit on by college girl, major ego boost and everyone is jealous. Girl gets asked out by college guy, and suddenly she’s the most popular girl. Angela and I both get to go to the prom. Then, we work things out so that at the prom the couples get back together, and we don’t seem sketchy hanging out with these 17 year olds. Damn, we had a good plan–everybody wins.

This last weekend, we put our little plan into effect. Anjali Kamat ’00 joined us on our mission. After hearing about our plan, she realized that she wanted a prom date too. Can you blame her? Ellie Stowell ’99 joined us as well. She thought it would be funny, and wanted to buy a new pair of shoes. We all decided that there were really only two possibilities for Prom ’99 (the *last* prom of the century, might I add).

We either go to the Claremont High School Prom, because its sure to be super nice, or the Rancho Cucamonga one, so we can get engraved wine glasses or candle votives that read "Rancho Cucamonga Prom ’99, A Night to Remember". Personally, I wanted the engraved glass, but Angela and Anjali both thought the CHS prom would be way more fun.

So we started walking around the mall with our eyes peeled for Claremont High jackets, but didn’t find any around the food court. We did see one cute couple, but when they stood up, we realized they were both under 5’4 (and 14). You can tell that most potential prom dates are too young just by looking at their arms and legs. The girls have little muscle and bone structure, and the boys have little or no hair. Most of the boys at the mall just dressed silly, and the girls kind of sleazy. There is no reason why a 14 year old girl should own daisy dukes, or a 16 year old boy dress like he’s in run DMC. Teen fashion is worse today than it was when we were in high school, and that says a lot.

When we realized that the food court wasn’t panning out too well (the boys weren’t cute and the girls were either not cute, eleventeen, or had more of their breasts man made than genetic) we decided to walk around the mall.

First stop, Red Eye. This was my first time in Red Eye, and it was really neat, because not only were the clothes made for young anorexic girls, but the staff was equally young and anorexic. California Labor Laws hint that the girls should at least be around 16, but these girls looked younger than eleventeen and could barely make a scale budge. At first I thought that the racks of clothes were too closely spaced. I had to walk sideways to move around the store.

Then I saw a few actual customers and salespeople walk around the store without coming close to bumping anything. For a second, I felt big. Then I realized why I felt big, and then I felt really sick. We all left the store rather quickly.

We tried window shopping for a while, hoping to find some eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. A long fifteen minutes (in Montclair this is an eternity) of searching yielded unwanted results.

Nothing caught our fancies, because everyone looked so damn young. We tried going into Hot Topic, but as soon as we saw the people in there, we left. Wet Seal was next, and the clothes were made for slightly older and less anorexic high school girls, but still kinda sickening. Whoever thought of those kneepants or capri pants or whatever they’re called should be shot. While the girls looked around the store, i waited by the magazine rack (yes, in the store), reading the newest copy of Jane. In an interesting side note, the bookstore in the mall doesn’t carry Jane, but the trashy clothing stores do.

We went to a few more stores, looking for couples to bust up, but just couldn’t find any. There were a couple of cute couples by the place that sells the 18 inch cookie pies, but none of them looked old enough to go to prom (though we were sure most of them were). Everyone in The Gap was in their 30s or 40s, and the other female oriented clothing stores had the normal mixture of moms and underage girls. The youngest person I could see myself going to prom with ended up being the 20 year old cashier at the Body Shop who goes to Cal Poly. But she couldn’t take me to prom so I lost interest.

As we were leaving, I glanced back and saw the first high school girl of the day that didn’t look blatantly underage and thought "Wait a sec, she looks like she’s on the better half of seventeen". Then, I hit myself.

I’m not going to Prom this year. I’m missing out on the last one of the century. But its okay. After trying to find a prom date, I realized that I don’t really want one. I’m sure it might be fun to go now, but I tried so hard not to go when I was actually in high school, that going now would be like selling out. It would also be sick.

Teenage girls are young. Real young. You always hear stories about how they often date older guys. I used to think it was sketchy when a 17 year old female friend was dating a 20+ male.

Now that I’m on the older side, I know that its sketchy. There’s no reason to do this, aside from pedophilia or trying to manipulate some naive high schooler, and those are both pretty sick things. Picking up dates in the mall isn’t a good idea either. Aside from being sketchy, its kind of trashy too. The days of mallrats and 90210 are over now– everyone knows you meet people these days in those big bookstores with coffeshops inside.

So I’m not going to the last prom of the century, I’m not getting an engraved glass, and I’m not going to start a coke habit in the bathroom (which I’ve heard only the coolest people do at prom). Instead, I’m going to be in my room, playing guitar and making mix tapes that I’ll send to myself. Then I’ll think of another crackpot scheme to write about in TSL.