Dancing and such
…welcome to the world of auto-draft-saving…and Kittie (that’s me) actually looking at the drafts folder. Thus, in all its glory – welcome to the post I thought lost, the other day….
Well, last night was …not the best night at the dancehall.
For those of you who do not know, my sole purpose for going out is to dance. I don’t drink much at all and I’m not out to hook up with anyone. I love to flirt – social flirtation has sadly been lost for the most part. It used to be one of the finest social artforms. And, it’s a real shame, actually. Flirtation makes people feel better about themselves; and, it’s one reason I will flirt with anyone. And, yes, I mean anyone. So long as I can tell they are not taking me seriously. Maybe social flirtation is a Southern thing? I don’t know where I picked it up. But, seeing someone who is turned in on themselves and seeming very closed off and down…it prods me to do something to change it. Inject a little, light, social flirtation – and, you’d be amazed at the transformation that occurs. A simple smile – a real one, not a faked or smart alec one – can lift someone’s spirits. A laugh brings a little light to their eyes. And, you see them slowly start to straighten up. Their bearing and posture improving and their eyes losing some of the shadows and the tension lines on their face easing…and, it just makes you feel good.
I am always very clear with my dance partners that I am not there to play the “hook up” game. I’m there simply for the joy of dancing. The friends I am making and the enjoyment from them is a nice bonus.
So, imagine my surprise when I found out last night that half the club thinks that Ken and I are a couple. I was floored. Neither of us has remotely indicated we were. We never arrive together. We never leave together. I dance with him regularly – however, I dance with Charlie, Dan, Mike, Mike, Mike ((**snickers** yes, three Mike’s)), Lawrence, Steve, and pretty much anyone who asks so long as it’s not a 10 step. I rarely, rarely turn someone down to dance. Even brand spanking new dancers get my agreement. How else are they to learn if they never get to dance? We all start someplace, eh? So long as the guy isn’t falling down, stupid drunk and can keep his hands where they belong, I’ll dance with him. I have been known to walk off a dance floor because a partner was … inappropriate.
So, anyway…last night at the club sucked. It was crammed to overflowing, and I do not handle crowds well at all. Not even remotely. Worst case = full blown panic attack. Do you realize it’s been nearly a decade since I’ve been in an actual mall? I don’t go to concerts. When I go to the movies, I put something in the chair beside me to keep someone from sitting in it. And consistently being bumped into when I don’t take up that much space and there’s no call for it starts getting my dander up lickety split. So, last night, I was just a hair shy of having a serious come apart. I was being slammed into consistently – realize…I’m sitting on the inside edge of a barstool and still being hit by this woman’s flailing elbows and hands. And, not a single apology or acknowledgment that she is in anyway infringing on my space – much less beating me. One more hit and I was going to let fly. The fellow to my left saw the glint in my eye as the woman’s elbow started to come back to impact with my body once again; and, thanks to him she did not wind up kissing floor. He intercepted her elbow and informed her that if she wanted to remain in one piece she would be wise to relocate. He didn’t word it quite like that – but, it wasn’t far off. I couldn’t even get off the stool for a good period of time because people were so packed around me. Realize – this is not remotely typical for a night at the Renegade.
Add in the fact that only Ken was there of my regular dance partners – which means I was doing a lot of sitting and not consistently dancing…and, well, it wasn’t a grand night of dancing. However…I did make a few new friends and added a dance partner to my roster. These are good things. The fellow at the end of the bar’s name was Joe (he’s in the background of the photo below) and he has an interesting life story to share. The other was a fellow named Bob. I’ve watched him dance for the last few months, but we’ve both always been so busy dancing that we haven’t gotten to dance together. He got me out on the floor last night and it was a surprising joy to dance with him. Most men who lead like he does, I just flat out cannot follow. He’s got a ballroom style lead. However, he managed to telegraph just the right amount of information. Only had one or two mis-steps the whole time we danced. While I enjoy dancing, I’m generally not comfortable with a lot of leads out there.
There was more, I was feeling quite wordy – but, I’m sure your eyes are thanking the cyber-pogs that the rest got lost and I can’t recall exactly what it was I was saying…Though the night ended well when I came home, and contrary to the norm logged in to check my email. Had a nice, unexpected chat with a friend and went to bed in quite a fine mood.
