By Tom Fegan
Prom night incinerated my springtime thoughts of love. Money wasted for the flower, rented tux, tickets, and dinner pierced my soul. The evening ended with only a goodnight kiss. I sank into shadows of despair. My younger buddies maliciously teased of my infatuation gone sour. Time healed my broken heart.
A year later, they sought my counsel when slapped by their prom dates with a thread-bare wallet. Dreams of romance and a glamorous evening crushed. “There is life after prom,” I began. “Next time don’t put such expectations on one girl and move forward.”