The Dance Party

The floor is sticky.  My shoes attach with every step and then release with a squish.  They’re bike shoes – not heels: they’re little flat waterproof things that I wear to bike and then change out of when I get to my destination.  But I have not brought anything to change into.  Everyone else is in heels.

We’ve gone out to a dance club on the Saturday before Halloween.  It’s a birthday party and we’re not in costume, though most of the people around us are.  The man dressed as bacon is my favorite.  Then there’s a delicate fellow leaning on the railing playing what appears to be a old-school Gameboy with a book light attached.  And three Pandas.  Three.  The Pandas are enormous men – at least 250 pounds each – and they’re dancing with women in this way that seems to be a trend this night – one person bending over and putting their butt in the air, the other person rubbing their groin area against it.  I don’t understand, and this position is causing me to knock my knees into people’s heads as I make my way around the room.

I try to dance.  It’s impossible.  a.) I can’t dance.  b.) there’s not room on this dance floor to dance.  One of the people I’m with knows how to salsa and we try, but there isn’t room even to take the step back.  We give up and grind like everyone else.  Someone spills their drink on my feet.  One of the Pandas knocks his head into my knees.  I look up, and he’s dancing with a… a… bride of Frankenstein (?) whose breasts are held up in a corset and strapless dress so tight and so wired that they sit out in front of her like a shelf under her chin.  Later, I catch her making out with a skeleton.

It sounds like hell, right?  It sounds like the beginning of the usual “awkward-girl-goes-to-trendy-party” story, right?  It’s not.  Here’s what happened:

The person with the birthday?  That’s the person I love.  And even with sticky feet and even with my elbows knocking against strange creatures and even being completely out of my element… there’s still love.  Love means a lot.  Love means sometimes you do things that are not your favorite, and you put up with craziness, and you stay up late.  But then there’s that kiss… and it’s all worth it.  And I know the person I love will do the same for me – in fact, has done the same on many other occasions.  We dance together and the world disappears.  It’s a pretty good dance party after all. 

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