Dear ballboy, as to flowers and what to do with them, here's a story I posted many months ago. When you finish reading it, you will know what to do with the flowers, and your date will love the delivery system.
There was a young queen standing on a street corner when a handsome young man walked by. "This is it. This it really it," she thought, and followed him down the street and into the elevator and to the 43rd floor and into an office labeled Dr. Smith, Proctologist."
After a few minutes, an inner door opened and the handsome young man said, "Next!" and the queen entered. "Doctor, I'm sick, I'm really, really sick."
"All right," said the handsome doctor, "remove your trousers and drape them over the chair. The doctor put on a glove, put lubricant on his finger and inserted. The queen giggled. The doctor looked shocked and said, "I'm sorry, I have patients who really need me. Please leave and don't come back. I don't need to waste my time."
Three weeks passed and the doctor opened his door and said, "Next."
The queen entered and said, "Oh, doctor, I'm sick this time, I really, really am."
"All right," the doctor said, "remove your trousers and put them on the chair." The queen removed his trousers and draped them on the chair. The doctor put on his glove and lubricated his finger and inserted it. The queen did not flinch. "Well," the doctor thought, "perhaps there is something wrong," and pushed his finger deeper. He felt something hard and moved his finger around it. He could not determine what it was so he moved to slip in his thumb and grip it. Finally he did and pulled it out. He was shocked. "What are you doing with a bouquet of flowers up your ass," he screamed.
"Oh, doctor," said the queen, "read the card. Read the card."
Enjoy your prom. And how can you not have a date when the entire site is filled with potential prom partners? Can you not imagine
Logan or Tyler or Danny or Anthony knocking on your door in a white tux with a red cumberbund with an orchid in a clear plastic box and a stretch limo in the driveway?
Is your heart beating faster? And after Last Dance he gives the driver directions to a private cabin out on the lake where there's a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne and cold roast chicken and toast points and strawberries and cream.
Feel like you're going to explode? And he unties your handtied bowtie and your cufflinks and one at a time the studs that open your tuxedo shirt and you do the same for him. And you help him out of his striped trousers and underalls and you pull him close to smell the heady fragrance of Aramis along his neck.
Oh, my God, how much more of this can you take? And he leans in to kiss you and throws up down the front of your tee shirt and passes out.
Have a happy promnight ballboy, we've all been there.
