In high school I was so good at putting my nose to the grindstone that it never dawned on me that there was anything else to the experience. Like dating. But about 3/4 of the way through I suddenly got the sense I was probably missing out on something. Yes, if I ever wanted to say I had done the "high school" thing properly, I was going to need to go on a date.
But what did that mean? What constituted a "date"? I had guy friends I spent time with, but surely that wasn't "dating." Daunted by the ambiguity, I decided there was only one sure-fire way to have a date: going to the prom. And with that realization, suddenly "going to the prom" ended up on the List of Things I Absolutely Positively Needed to Do.
Unfortunately, having not previously dated made accomplishing this goal difficult. Who was I to go with? I could go alone, but that seemed to defeat the purpose. No, I was going to have to find someone to go with me.
And so my quest began. It began my junior year with a single proposal for someone to join me at the junior prom. He turned me down, saying he didn't want to go. It continued the following year, but again I encountered resistance: first the junior prom candidate got asked out from under me by someone else. Then his friend turned me down, not just once, but twice. Meanwhile someone asked me but I turned HIM down because I was hoping that the other guy would change his mind. With options drying up left and right I was forced to cast a wider net. I tried an "ex-boyfriend" from summer camp when I was 12. When that failed, I tried asking juniors. When THAT failed I started flipping through yearbooks, trying to find someone who might still be available and whose phone number I might also have. But no dice...
So after running out of all the people I knew reasonably well, I turned to the people I hardly knew at all. There was one guy whom I knew a tiny bit from Quiz Bowl the previous year. I think we'd only done one event together but from what I remembered he'd seemed nice enough. Anyway, at this point I was desperate. I called him.
"Are you going to the prom?"
"Yes." My heart dropped: this was not the answer I wanted to hear at this point. But there was too much at stake to be deterred so easily. I continued:
"Are you going with anyone?"
"No." Aha! Now was my chance to make my move. Somewhat impressed by his gumption to have been willing to go without a date, I asked the important next question.
"Want to go with me?"
"Sure."
"OK, great, I'll call you on Wednesday."
I think we had maybe one more conversation before prom night, just to cover basic logistics like whether to get each other corsages and so he could color coordinate his cummerbund with my outfit. We also agreed that I would drive and arranged when I would pick him up. The plan seemed quite workable, except that prom night the weather was terrible. It wasn't just raining: it was dumping water gallons at a time. Just getting into the car risked a full-soaking. Then out on the highway my poor little underpowered Tercel nearly got washed off the road by the buckets of water being kicked up by semi trailers. With zero visibility, driving to somewhere I'd never been, so much could have gone so horribly wrong.
In fact, so much could have gone wrong with the whole endeavor. After all, I was off to the prom with someone who was essentially a complete stranger. But you know what? It was perfect. We got to the prom and had a great time. So much so that we officially "dated" for the rest of the school year. So much so that we've stayed good friends, and now, 13 years later, on my spring break, I have someone to visit in Japan.
I knew going to the prom would surely pay off somehow...
Cathy and Koichi, before the prom, June 1992
With dateline changes and being offline during travel the dates have gotten messed up. This post belongs on 3/4.