The Prom

It’s prom season and you know what that means, a lot of teenage girls are going to get pregnant. Teenage girls are going into the prom as young women, and they’re leaving the prom as new mothers. It seems like when prom season comes around, teenage girls do much better on pregnancy tests than they do on finals. One time I went to the prom and I was dancing with this girl. She had to go to the bathroom real bad, so she stopped dancing and ran to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she came out of the bathroom with a newborn baby. I asked her, “Who’s baby is that?” She pointed to herself. Then I asked her, “Who’s the father?” She pointed to one of the teachers. Mr. Robinson was the father of her baby.

One year I didn’t go to the prom but the rest of my classmates went. The day after the prom, the whole class came back as parents. It was like an episode of Maury. Girls were accusing boys of being the father of their baby. Boys were accusing girls of being sluts. It was crazy. The teacher didn’t even teach that day. She was reading out paternity test results.

In my senior year, I didn’t go to my high school prom. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to go, it was because I didn’t know when to go. Nobody wanted to tell me the date of the prom. They were keeping it a secret from me. Even the dean didn’t want to tell me. There was a conspiracy going on. Don’t tell Maccorley there’s a prom this year. They didn’t want me at that prom because they probably thought that I would get all the girls there pregnant and not pay child support. They were probably right.