All hail Facebook and its ethereal power to show how much more beautiful and amazing than you everyone you used to know is these days. It would be a pity to lose track of childhood crushes and exes and anyone you had ever wanted to impress. But through the magic of Facebook, you don’t have to! Just a few keystrokes and you can find that long-lost prom date in the hopes that you look scads better than they do! Allow me to demonstrate. Here is my prom date, Scott.
Yeah, you’re welcome. But I’m already feeling like I’m not going to win this Battle of Awesomeness. And, no, I didn’t pick some random buff guy’s picture. Thanks to my mom I have ample photographic evidence of our momentous evening together. Here’s a picture of us in high school:
Don't worry. I discover eyebrow-plucking my freshman year at college.
That’s me in the red Jessica Rabbit number. (It was in a garment bag when I told my dad I needed the credit card. That’s the only reason that dress made it out of the store.) The gal on the right is Scott’s sister, Kristi. The whole magical evening was all her doing. She and I had been best friends since the sixth grade. Once Kristi had gotten herself a date for the prom, she was super excited for the two of us to make it a double date. And when Kristi wanted something, she had a way of making it happen. The grand scheme unfolded in her bedroom:
KRISTI: Like, oh my gosh! We, like, HAVE to double date to prom!
ME: That would be, like, totally awesome! But I, like, don’t even have a date.
KRISTI: Like, whatever. Just, like, ask somebody.
ME: No way! I couldn’t just, like, ASK someone to prom!
KRISTI: Like, sure, you could!
ME: I can think of, like, NOBODY who would go with me.
KRISTI: Then, like, go with Scott!
ME: Scott? Like, your brother, Scott?
KRISTI: Like, yeah!
ME: He’s, like, practically engaged. Would he even, like, go for that?
KRISTI: Sure, he would! Just a sec.
[Kristi opens her bedroom door and literally screams down the hall.]
SCOTT’S VOICE: WHAT?????
KRISTI: BECKY AND ME WANT TO DOUBLE TO PROM!!! YOU HAVE TO BE HER DATE!!!
SCOTT’S VOICE: WHAT??? NO, I DON’T!!!
KRISTI: YES, YOU DO!!!
SCOTT’S VOICE: I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!!
KRISTI: SO WHAT? IT’S JUST PROM!!! YOU DON’T HAVE TO, LIKE, MARRY HER!!!
SCOTT’S VOICE: I’M NOT EVEN IN HIGH SCHOOL ANYMORE!!! I’M NOT GOING!!!
KRISTI: YES, YOU ARE!!!
SCOTT’S VOICE: AWWWWWWWWW!!!
[Kristi closes the door and sits back down, satisfied.]
KRISTI: That means he’s, like, totally coming.
Yeah, I know. It was magical. We actually did have a really good time. Kristi and I got our hair and make-up professionally done, and Scott was an awesome date. We were having a grand time until I stepped into the Ladies Room at the post-prom party and discovered that all the green concealer the beautician had used was leaking through my foundation. We left soon after that, because Monster High was still twenty years out, and I didn’t relish spending Prom Night looking like a zombie.
But I’m getting off subject. A quick look through Scott’s Facebook pictures clued me in that he wasn’t content to just being a glistening, muscular Adonis. No, no. He’s been doing other things as well. Thing like yachting …
Lounging by the pool …
Rubbing shoulders with celebrities …
And, of course, flexing.
But, you know, I’ve been doing stuff too! Really, really cool stuff! Like raising loving children …
Making a beautiful home (And, yeah, that’s poop on the floor.) …
Doing a bit of gourmet baking …
And in my “spare time” I truly reach the pinnacle of awesomeness by … well, sleeping.
There are four of us in this bed. Can you find us all?
So, thank you, Facebook for letting us put all our accomplishments out there. It was really good to hear that Scott also has a beautiful daughter and decided to follow up his career as a globe-trotting diamond broker with a stint at law school. Congrats on finishing your first year, Scott. All the grades you posted were truly stellar. But I have some pretty exciting plans too. This is the year I’m going to train the children to actually use their hampers, and I am finally going to throw away that can of Manwich that expired in 2002! Suck it, Scott!