Another prom night horror story

Last night we went to happy hour. It was fun - we were at McCormick & Schmick's and the prom was taking place at the Park Plaza right next door, so we had front row window seats as the hummer limos and giant party buses pulled up and the awkward, beautifully dressed high schoolers piled out. Then the principal and his posse would stick their head in every vehicle, doing a quick visual sweep for empty containers.

The down side was sitting directly across the table from me. Husband's colleague's boyfriend. He's insufferable. He's such a know-it-all, and she (who is funny, witty, quirky, and fabulous) looks to him as if he's a knowledge god. I think 99% of what comes out of his mouth is complete crap. Among other things, he gave us a lengthy description of what type of shrimp we were having, where it came from, and how to tell if it's inedible or spoiled. He just starts talking and won't shut up. Who the hell cares, to that level of detail, what kind of shrimp we're eating? No one asked!

He even went so far as to tell us who designed some of the girls' prom dresses and how much they probably cost. Which was freaky. Pedophile much? No straight guy (unless working in the fashion industry or Macy's juniors department) should have intimate knowledge of teen formal wear. It's creepy, smarty pants. Just plain creepy.