You learn a lot about a person when you’re in a car together for 3, ten hour stake outs. For example I found out that Lambert is lactose intolerant, plays the trumpet, volunteers at a homeless shelter, taps his fingers incessantly, accidentally killed his horribly abusive step father on a hunting trip when he was 12, rides a unicycle, has five parrots and a third nipple.
I told him stuff too, like when I was 14 I ran away and lived in the woods for 3 weeks when my parents told me they were getting a divorce, I make amazing meatloaf, Jaws scared me out of the ocean forever, cupcakes make me horny, my favorite color is red and I never went to my High School Prom because I was dumped at the last minute. Like most men, Lambert’s eyes glazed over whenever I talked about myself. I didn’t think he retained a word I said but he proved me wrong.
At a PTA meeting last week Lambert, in vice principal mode, volunteered me to chaperone the Junior prom. When my daughter found out she was mortified, but I promised to give her privacy and keep my distance. So on the day of, when we went to the salon to get her hair and nails did, I had mine done as well. I wore something nice and “mom-ish” then spent the night trying not to be too much of a buzz kill. Lambert was busy but when we did see each other we exchanged sexy looks. He even secretly grabbed my ass when we crossed paths near the refreshments table.
After the kids went off to their post-prom parties, a few of us stayed to clean. I hadn’t seen Lambert in a while and assumed he left. As I swept wet confetti off the floor I thought back on my missed prom night. The douche I was supposed to go with dumped me just hours before when the head cheer ho asked him to go because she and her boyfriend had a fight. To add to my teenage nightmare, she was crowned Prom Queen.
I guess I zoned out because I hadn’t noticed the other chaperones had gone. I was alone, standing in the middle of the gym, broom in hand like Cinderella. Suddenly the lights dimmed, a spotlight turned on, disco ball began to spin and music started. “We’ve Got Tonight” by Bob Segar. From out of the darkness walked Lambert, dressed in a tux. God damn he looked good. I was stunned as he approached me, clear box in his hand, corsage inside. Was I dreaming?
“Welcome to your prom Nicole”, he said, eyes smoldering. “You look beautiful”.
I was shaking like a nervous teen as he pinned the corsage on my dress.
“You did this for me?”
Then he pulled something from his jacket pocket. A rhinestone tiara. He placed it on my head. “My Prom Queen.” It was too much. I started to cry. He pulled me close, we danced.
The next song was Styx, “Come Sail Away” and at the best, most rocking part, the ceiling opened and confetti and balloons spilled out.
This man not only listened to me but he remembered all the goofy details from my favorite flowers to my dream prom song list. We danced for a couple more songs, but when Journey’s “Faithfully” started, something came over me. He had made one of my dreams come true. I had to have him. So right there, in the middle of the gym in a pile of wet confetti with 80’s make out music in the background, we added porn to prom. I’ll probably be pulling confetti out of my hoohaa for days but it was worth it.
I’m screwed. I can’t stop thinking about him now. I wonder if he knows what he did to me. Am I falling in love with him? How is this possible? He’s demented. He’s a panty thief! We have another stake out tomorrow night and I already have butterflies I’m so excited to see him. This is really bad but that was the best night of my life.