It's prom season. I remember my prom. Or rather my non-prom. Baptist minister's daughters don't go to dances--at least they didn't back then. My boyfriend (the house hunk) was a tad put out at that. He asked me to take him to my prom. My folks said a rather emphatic , "No". And that was it.
So he came up with the idea of us having a really nice date. We planned a nice steak dinner, and a few games of bowling. It was hotter than you know where with about ninety-eight percent humidity. I rushed home from school, took a cool bath (no shower at our apartment) and dressed in a very simple classic white dress with white strappy sandals.
He picked me up in his 59 Pontiac Bonneville Convertible and we were off! First we went to a restaurant on the north side, the Black Angus. I have no idea if it's still there or not, but it was very, very nice. We were seated in a cool dark booth that was quiet and private. Dinner was delicious. Finally when we were replete, we went out to the car.
Which had about three inches of water inside. He'd left the top down since it was such a nice night. And while we were inside the restaurant, all that heat and humidity boiled up in quite a storm.
So after opening the doors so the water swooshed out, he dug a blanket out of the trunk to cover the seats and we went in search of a bowling alley. We played several games. I seem to remember winning one and that was a big deal for me because I was a terrible bowler.
And eventually he took me home. When I exchanged prom stories with my girlfriends later, there was a certain amount of vindication. I had been subjected to quite a bit of teasing the week before because my parents didn't allow me to go to the dance. Seems most of them were caught out in the rain storm and ended up with ruined hair dos and wet dresses.
And I still look back on my non-prom with some fond memories...