Elevator 32

I’ve probably given this little rant quite a few times, but for completeness, here it comes again.
So I asked Fairley how Prom was last year. Disregarding how creepy this is, here’s how it went:
(17:34:26) me: how was prom
(17:34:35) Michael Fairley: fun
(17:34:52) me: thanks for probably the greatest explanation in the history of mankind
Coincidentally, that’s about the most I can say of my Prom. It was fun.
Without getting into painful details that make for a poor narrative, most of it was quite typical, for a dance, that is. Which isn’t necessarily bad; they’re quite fun. Unfortunately, people seemed to insinuate that Prom would be significantly different from ‘ne other dance, being the ultimate, ultimate dance that concludes Senior year in one big bash.
Looking over this, what I’ve written so far seems overly negative. Not at all. It’s just that what other would consider the downer of Prom ended up being the most memorable part of it.
Coming back down in the elevator, the elevator kind of failed us. All 14 of us. Who had just finished dancing. For 2 hours.
It was hot and cramped, but truly an experience. When everything is what you think, what you know, what you expect, sometimes you need something to shake you up. I don’t think ‘ne of us had a bad time in that elevator. We sang songs, talked to Gerry, and, well, bonded.
I wouldn’t want it to happen again, of course. Rarely do we want things to go wrong, but it’s those situations that make us think, make us grow. We weren’t ever in ‘ne danger, of course, and it’s not like I’m a changed man for it, but it taught me how to appreciate the best of a situation.
Kenny’s speech last year talked about how we should always look on the bright side: if you had, say, lost a leg, play basketball. If you lose, then you have your excuse; if you win, then you can laugh at someone who just lost to someone with one leg. Or so Kenny thought.

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