• Like cliches are wont to occur, this particular truism took place at a social event, and to some, one of the pinnacles of high school life: Senior Prom. Since I didn't really care all that much about dresses (they are more trouble than they are worth), I went alone dressed in a dark pinstripped suit complimented by my pinstripped hat and walking stick (I didn't own a cane). Of course, most of the school's population was there, including my nemesis "Bob" (not his real name, but it works; I call him that instead in reality, anyway).
    As the night wore on with no sight of Bob, I decided to step out of the darkened dance room for a little fresh air. When I was about to return, I accidentally lost control of my walking stick and it rolled away from my grasp. As I bent down to reach for it, a dark shoe lifted slightly and stopped the stick's movement. When I looked up, the person was none other than my unfortunately handsome (I swear there must be a rule somewhere saying all evil jerks must be hot or something) nemesis. With neither an insult or gesture, he just smirked and returned to the dance floor. I was quite annoyed with myself for the remainder of the night for falling in another cliche! sweatdrop