Dancing Fool — The Social Experience
Friday night, decked in my best attempt at (good) 80's fashion, I went dance dance dancing with the beautiful Natalya and Carl. First we went to Lola's Room at the Crystal Ballroom for 80's Video Dance Attack! After the heat of the unventilated room threatened to melt our fabulous faces, and the crowd of 40-somethings threatened to like, totally gag us with a spoon, we moved on to the bigger and better at The Fez Ballroom, ShutUp&Dance. They weren't rockin the 80's dance video's but they did have a big screen which would show random scenes from 80's exercise videos, Saved by the Bell and other 80's oddities. The crowd was a little more stylish and there seemed to be more dancers than spectators. I don't think I stopped dancing for more than a moment, time enough to take a shot of tequila (thanks Carl!) and take a breather to watch the skinny girl in white dance like a robotic version of Julia Lewie Dryfus all night. Besides the absolute pleasure of dancing with my black-clad buxom blond friend, I had interesting moments with various strange characters on the dance floor. There was the girl who went around slapping asses and attempting to dirty dance with people, the guy who looked like an older version of a Motley Crue member dancing alone wearing a black hat, black sunglasses, and a long black coat, the whole time. He told me I looked like Cleopatra and would warn me of sleazy guys. One of which he called "sock guy", decked in short shorts and knee high tube socks, he was clearly gay and yet he propositioned me more than once, saying he was in the mood for something different. Okayyyy. Then a gay girl asked, "Does it offend you if I say that I want to kiss you right now?" and I said, "Not at all, it may offend my husband though." To say it was a good night would be a drastic understatement. Dancing to 80's music is quite possibly one of life's greatest pleasures. Of course, yesterday and today my body feels like it was dropped off of the top of a building, but I suppose pleasure always comes at a price.
Mr. Space wrote:
May be time to switch pheromones. Whatever is coming out of your pores is clearly set to "Smörgåsbord".
That was too much fun. It must be done again. Oh yes. And again.
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