Sardines and beer…
Uh yeah. My mind is not quite functional. As a side note of no particular importance – I dislike both sardines and beer. However, most Thursday nights the dance floor at Broken Spoke is packed tight enough to make sardines feel right at home – and the beer is pouring freely. Well, not free…but…anyway.
I had a blast, last night. I actually got asked to dance by several people I’d not met before. And a few I had. D and R were there and that always makes my night. Poor D…as soon as he walked in (it was in the middle of a waltz – my favorite dance) I walked up, grabbed him and had him on the floor. No by your leave, no nothing. It took me a minute to figure out what felt wrong – then I realized it was the first time I’d ever gotten the very first dance with him – his shirt was dry. That amused me.
I actually had the most fun at the Broken Spoke that I have ever had. And, I nearly didn’t go. Go figure. I was at home and had been on a cleaning binge determined to get my floors clean – we will not discuss how three tiny dogs manage to make that big a mess. I swear they are toddlers in disguise. And, while I adore my landlord to no end (I actually really do – he’s one of the nicest guys on the planet)…I am often tempted to beat him for having light coloured tile installed. Admittedly, it makes the place look better than a darker tile would have – but, I no sooner get it clean than it looks filthy again. It’s disheartening. Anyway, I had swept, swiffered and mopped all except the storage room/office (yeah, that one’s getting ignored until I have like a full week to devote to emptying that place out and getting rid of stuff that really needs to go).
I cleaned off the patio and the kitchen and all that good stuff – this means I was moving furniture and sweeping ceilings and corners, etc. The problem with me starting to clean is it’s very hard to stop until the whole place has been overhauled. Generally, this means I clean on the weekends. However, when I went home last night I just couldn’t take my floors anymore and started scrubbing. By 7:30pm I had flopped on the couch to eat a quick meal…I eyeballed my knitting and picked it up and got about two rows done. All the while thinking, “I really should get ready to go out.”
I seriously debated the thought for a while. Then decided I’d take a quick shower and see how I felt. After the shower I felt almost human again and decided to go ahead and head out – but, I wasn’t going to put a whole lot of effort into it.
This strengthens my belief that if I want to get asked to dance, I need to just not put any effort into looking good. I didn’t do anything to my hair, I had nominal makeup on and I was in a ratty, old tank top and jeans. My only concession to going out was the makeup. Yeah, the guys at work have gotten used to the fact that I generally don’t wear the stuff.
It was a lot of fun. I’m getting better and better about dodging incoming elbows and feet – though, it winds up putting me through some contortions and unexpected footwork that has R laughing heartily from time to time. I’m getting to where the crowd on the floor doesn’t make me tense up and want to run screaming from the building. Instead, I’m starting to be able to view it as a dynamic obstacle course – and viewing it as a challenge to make it through a dance without hitting or being hit by anyone on the floor.
