Prom Scene

Spring of 1982.. I'm 17 years old.. Long straight blonde hair, shorts and a shirt (no style, OP shorts, concert tshirt)  on a beautiful SoCal Spring morning

I'm waiting in the parking lot of my Dad's bank in my 65 Bug..Dad pulls up in his tan VW Van.. I walk up to him.. 

B: Thx for coming Dad, can you cash this 30 dollar check for me. I'm going to the La Jolla prom tonight and I'm going to need some money

Dad: What's wrong with your bank account?

B: Long story Dad.. There's just a hold on things..

Dad: Again???   ..Dad grabs check shaking his head.. He walks in to the bank.. Walks back out and hands me 40 .. 

Dad: Here's a little extra. Get yourself some rubbers and try not to knock your date up..

B: (Embarrassed) Geez Dad.. Ok

D: When are you home?

B: Not sure. I have tournament all day today and hopefully tomorrow with the prom tonight. If it goes well, I should be home tomorrow night right at dinner.

D: Ok, Good luck and be safe (gives me an awkward tap on the shoulder before heading back to his van)

Me driving alone in my packed bug (tux, tennis, junk everywhere) the freeway south on the 405 toward San Diego. Grateful Dead playing on my tape player.. Frequently checking the mirror to see who's behind me (always have drugs in the car)  Arrive at the tourney.. I'm a baby faced 17 year old kid with adults all around, some with wives, kids, beards.. Its a professional money event..Big Tournament desk, sponsor banners all around.. college players in their team gear abound. Big trophy sitting on the table.. Prize money breakdown  on the draw.. I'm walking around solo.. Everyone knows everybody except myself.. Group of Trojans stand together by the side in their gear giving me a good stare down.

I have a tough draw.. Play #2 seed first round.. but I've been playing great lately,  ripping through him quickly, raising a few eyebrows at the tournament desk..I make a quick call to my prom date.. Leave her a voicemail..Tell her I won and that I might be late.. Later in the afternoon..Next match and I'm playing a Trojan.. He comes out in his USC gear.. I take off my sweatshirt to reveal my UCLA tennis t-shirt.. SC-UCLA..,. 

Tournament Director: "You guys go to center court"

Another Quick call to my prom date.. This time she answers..I tell her I'm about to go on.. She's a bit panicky, reminds me to meet them all at the hotel and that the limo leaves at 8 sharp.. I tell her I'll hurry and that it will probably be quick.. My opponent is a 4 year starter at USC..

Match starts.. Its a grind.. Back and forth.. score is close.. The sun begins to set..shadows stretch across the court.. Its getting late.. Show the clock..630, 7.. I grind it out,, Its 730 by the time I get out of there..Its getting dark... I'm gonna be way late.. I jam out of the club to Congrats Congrats.. Final is tomorrow at 10.. See you then

Running out of site.. Fly to my bug.. Almost roll it gunning it out of the parking lot.. Cranking the music, searching ashtray..find half a joint and smoke it. Trying to change clothes in the car.. More Grateful Dead jamming..

Looking at map.. Whip it off freeway toward Hotel.. Running red lights, rolling through stops..Park right next to the limo in the parking lot.. 

Go in to back seat.. Grabbing clothes, sweaty tshirts on top of tux..rushing.. sweaty shirts everywhere, car is a mess..Running upstairs, no shirt, no socks, no shoes...running down hall, tennis bag and tux everywhere.. I hear music, I find the room.. get to hotel suite..Door is slightly ajar.. I knock.. Nobody answers.. Too loud.. I walk in..People everywhere.. 

I walk in to a large suite.. My date is to the left with gfs getting ready, to the right is a huge party with all the guys taking shots and chopping lines.. My Date calls me over to come say hi, the party guys call me   over and do a a blast.. A symbolic moment.. What I should do (say hi) is to the left. What I shouldn't do (drugs and shots) is to the right.. Camera pans left and right and left and right.. double take, triple take.. I tell my date to wait a minute.. drop my stuff on the floor, go meet the guys, do a shot and a huge line.. I greet them. Tell them I'm Barry Buss.. As I leave to go shower, one of the partiers tells the others...

"His Dad owns the Lakers" (could be a good recurring joke, everybody thinking my Dad is Jerry Buss, owner of the Lakers, Forum, Kings and all.. Even if story is loosely based on me, could be a fun joke)

  

I Say hi to my date and her friends (im walking around in only tennis shorts).. Tell her I'll be right out..Quickest shower ever.. In my tux in 8 minutes..Its 758..  I'm ready before she is and with 2 minutes to spare

Getting high fives from the guys for getting ready so quickly..Pays to be a guy!!!

Hotel scene.. 4-5 couples.. Music, party, girls primping, guys joshing..Trying to get out of the suite to the limo but the girls are running late.. So the guys Party on.. 1982 music.. Lotta new wave, lotta new wave hair and looks.. Oingo Boingo, Flock of seagulls, B-52s, Berlin.. Rock Lobster going hard.. everybody dancing and singing along.. "Everybody had matching towels!!!"

Limo ride.. Crazy, fun..Drinks and shots and joints and coke.. My Date is pretty sheltered..Not participating in the mayhem.. She's sipping on a wine cooler.. (Bartles and James??? 80's drink for sure..We get to the party, everybody powering down the visine and breath mints..We enter big ballroom..The Prom is on.. Pictures galore..  I'm going hard.. Date tries to get me to slow down.. Everyone starts asking me about my tournament and my big match tomorrow? Aren't you worried about losing? 

Its just tennis.. You win some, you lose some.. You know what though.. I've never lost a party!!!.. slam another drink...

Prom: Its loud, its swirling.. The bathroom is full of people sneaking shots and doing lines.. some people smoking cloves..  Keep flashing to the clock.. Its 9, its 10, its 11.. getting crazier, drunker, louder, some revelers are fading..I'm picking up speed, all over the dance floor dancing with everyone else's dates (getting sloppy) We all finally leave.. My date is passed out.. Back in the limo.. most others are done for the night, I'm still going hard..

Back to the hotel.. I go straight to the mirror, doing gummers off the glass..I start asking everyone for blow.. I'm fiending.. Pour myself a drink.. Peeps start laying down.. My date is done, shes laying in the bed.. I pick up some blow from the dealer guy, we start doing lines.. Doing the cocaine shuffle.. I'm jonesing.. grinding my teeth, sweating away..telling stories.. The clock keeps ticking..

The clock.. 1, 2, 3.. I'm not feeling well..I go the bathroom, getting sick all over myself and tux.. Im in there for a while. I Come out, the room is quiet and eerie.. Its very late..Everyone has either left or is passed out   Its 4 in the morning.. I go to the mirror.. Its wiped clean..I find a sliver of open bed next to my date.. I lay down.. Eyes open.. I slowly drift off to sleep

Next morning.. People begin to stir..First light through window hits my face.. I'm still in my tux with solid stain on it..There's stirring around the room.. Everyone moving slow.. I come to in a panic.. What time is it? What time is it? Its 930.. I have a match at 10.. Stagger to the bathroom.. look in the mirror.. Hold the stare.. What am I doing.. Get sick again.. Rushing everything on and off.. 

Go to kiss date.. she cowers away in horror.. Running out the door.. tennis and puked on tuxedo in hand.. 

get to car..throw everything in the back..  try to do a line quickly to wake up, but its hard.. Whip out of  the parking lot.. I arrive for my match Ever slightly late.. Everyone is already on center court waiting for me..Umpire, opponent, crowd.. I rush out to center court disheveled..  Start to warm up.. Run to the bathroom , realize I left my stash in my bag.. rush back, grab my bag.. hustle to bathroom.. get in there...pour all the coke left on the toilet paper box.. snort it all..

Hustle back to court.. about to start match.. go back and heave in the corner.. Proceed to play lights out.. Win pretty handily.. Shake hands.. Go up to tourney desk.. pretty wiped out.. Get a check, get a trophy, take pictures, quick interview.. Slowly drag myself to my car.. Get in the car.. Exhausted.. I Pause a moment.. look at the trophy, look at the check, see myself in the mirror, I check my nose for residual coke..Hold the stare again.. Its quiet.. I keep staring.. What the hell am I doing? What the hell did I just do??? Very Slowly drive out of the lot and pull on to the main street at a crawl..

Back on the freeway.. more rock and roll.. Classic Rock station..Stones, Zeppelin...Can't You Hear Me Knocking.. Always loving the long jams, I jam along with it.. look for a joint but can't find one.. Driving.. See signs for Los Angeles.. 100 miles, 90 miles, 80 miles.. I'm fading.. Start looking around..A Big straight patch of highway.. I pull over on the shoulder.. My car is a disaster, I'm not much better.. check and trophy on passenger seat.. Puked on tux and sweaty tennis clothes and equipment all strewn over the back

Its sunny.. Its hot.. I recline my seat back, window cracked and drift off to sleep.. 

Asleep, a police car rolls up behind me to see whats going on.. Officer slowly approaches, taps on my window.. Wakes me up.. Startled, I snap to attention.. 

What's going on here

Sorry sir.. I got real tired driving and pulled over.

In the middle of the day on the freeway???

Yes sir.. Long 24 hours and I don't know the area sir.. I'm pretty wiped out.. didn't want to go too much further

Cop starts walking around car, looking into back seat.. What's going on in there?..It smells awful in there and I smell alcohol.. Have you been drinking?

No sir.. I went to my prom last night and played a tennis tournament this morning

It smells terrible

Yeah, i got sick on my tux last night

And whats that in the front seat?

Thats my trophy and a check.. Here look, its got today's date on it. The ink is probably still wet.. I just won it an hour ago.

Longer pause.. So you're telling me you went to your prom last night, got sick all over yourself then got up this morning and won a tennis tournament for money and now you're pulled over here on the busiest freeway in the world taking a nap

Uh yeah,  pretty much 

Cop, shaking head quizzically ..Ok, wait right here

Cop goes back to the patrol car.. punches in my info.. Comes back out 

Ok, you can't nap here.. Its dangerous.. How far do you have to go?

About an hour.. Im awake now.. I'm good..I can make it..

Another pause.. checking out the scene.. Cop shaking his head..Ok,  If you get tired, get off the freeway next time.

Thank you sir.. I promise I will..

 

VOICEOVER 

And as I pulled back on the freeway, I drove away from a seasoned police officer who's seen some things in his day. I tried to explain to him my last 24 hours, the tournament, the prom, the Finals today, leaving out the criminal stuff of course. But the sweaty clothes, the puked-on tuxedo, the fresh check, the passed-out driver, the smell of alcohol emanating from the car and I'm certain myself too. 

Staring down upon the scene that was my teenage life, all the officer could do was walk away, shaking his head. He didn't have the first clue what to make of me...

Join the club buddy...

Trying to explain myself. Yet how do I explain the past 24 hours? Legally drunk professional tournament winner with narcotics racing through his system. Yup, that's me.

But as I got back on the road to continue my drive home, I was struck by the realization that I'd just gotten away with a little too much. Maybe being young and active, I was still impervious to the negative effects of drugs and alcohol. But my grandiosity got another lethal infusion that weekend.. that I could do darn near whatever I wanted, and get away with it. 

Arriving home, parking in front of my house.. I gathered up my stuff, leaving the disgusting tux in the car. (where it will remain for a few days..I'm incredibly irresponsible teenager at this time))  Coming into the house, I throw down my tennis stuff.  My parents and brothers were already seated at the dinner table.. I walk in with trophy and check.. 

Dad" Well, How'd it go?

B" The prom was fun.

I meant the tournament.

I did good.. I won another one and got this sweet check..

You beat that guy today?  (Dad getting excited about A tennis result) He was 200 in the world a couple years ago (Dad going full Rain Man) That's a great win. What were the scores? 

Two and two.. I kinda zoned

Must not have gotten laid last night

Mom: Harvey!! (as both my brothers laugh)

I sit down. Plate of burgers and extras on the table.. I start to assemble mine.. Straight rare meat and cheese.. Can I have a double, I'm really hungry ??? 

Sure, there's one extra..

My Mom gets up and returns with my mail.. You got this important looking letter from the USTA yesterday.. What is the Junior Davis Cup Selection Committee?

Dad chimes in.. Yeah, Why is the JDC selection committee sending you letters?

Well, I didn't tell you but after winning CIF and with all my other results, I petitioned for entry to the JDC tryouts in the hopes someone might pull out, I figured I had as good a chance as anybody

Mom slides the envelope in front of me..I take a huge bite of my burger.. leaving the envelope untouched

Dad: Well, are you going to open it?

B: Yeah.. I'm just a little nervous.. 

Slowly I open the envelope.. I Pull out letter.. I start to read it.. My eyes light up. 

Someone pulled out with an injury.. I got in. I've been invited to the Junior Davis Cup tryouts

And where and when is this?

Two weeks from tomorrow.. In Orange County, right after graduation..

No One says another word. No Congratulations, no anything..  Everyone goes back to eating their food

There's quiet at the table.. Pan the camera back to my whole family quietly sitting at the dinner table

End Scene