May 24, 2004 08:41
I had a dream that I took a friend of mine to her high school prom. I wasn't surprised that I dressed up in the finest tuxedo, or that I was charming and witty, or that I understood about bringing a flower and other prom related rituals. Of course, I wasn't surprised that she was divine; she wore a creme almost tending toward orange dress, the fancy kind, with the artificial waist that makes the lower half become a big dome, and the top strapless, leaving her shoulders bare. She was beautiful and radiant. I wasn't surprised that once we arrived in a large but not excessive limo, we found the place packed with similarly beautiful people, and few questioned my presence among people mostly 9 years younger than I. I wasn't even surprised to find that Tina Fey from Saturday Night Live also there with a date who was from the same high school. We commiserated on being older and how much we missed our youth and how neither of us went to the prom of our own high school and how we both regretted it.
What surprised me was that I could dance. Incredibly well. I was Mr. Cool Guy for the whole dream, but even so, I was an exceptionally good dancer. Strangely enough, my friend wasn't. She looked glorious and I loved dancing with her, but her moves were not out of the ordinary. At one point she excused herself from the dance floor and I began dancing with another girl who was conveniently nearby. She was tall and thin, with long black hair and a pointed nose, wearing a tight, flimsy white dress over her athletic, not so curvy body. She turned out to be an excellent dancer and soon I was spinning her around, dipping her, and doing the thing where you take long steps back and forth facing each other with perfect synchronization. My date came back and was jealous upon seeing this, so she immediately cut in and the area that had been cleared for dancer girl and I quickly filled back in. I laughed and told my girl that she was the best dance parter I could have; she had no competition.
Over the course of the night, Tina Fey and I started to become friendly and by the time we left I had invited her and her date back to our hotel. I had rented a suite in the nicest hotel in town (which isn't that nice since it's sort of in the middle of nowhere), and there were a few couples that joined us in addition to Tina and her date. I bought copious amounts of alcohol, nothing new for this group despite most of them being 18, and we drank and laughed and danced a bit. Soon enough I was making out with my date on the couch and I realized that Tina had no interest in her date; she must have lost a bet or been his cousin or something. She seemed exasperated that I was not interested in her, and as the dream ended, my date and I headed for bedroom. I looked to Tina and gave her an innocent shrug. Loosening my tie and stepping through the door, hand in hand with my precious creature, I awoke.