It was the week of prom, which meant there was a Student Council member behind the table, in front of a large, glittery sign reading PROM TICKET SALES. In fact, walking past it probably meant you were coming away slightly more glittery than before.
Someday the Student Council was going to require an intervention for this.
In any case, there was a glittery Stacey available to sell tickets to prom, and to collect
votes for prom king and queen, and definitely watching any of the guys who happened to pass through the lobby. More than usual. And that was saying something.