Saturday, 1 December 2007

Dance, Baby, Dance

I love to dance. I can't help moving to the music. I'm especially addicted to Footloose. Every time we go to the company Christmas party, I request the song and go nuts. Once I even accidentally hip-checked the publisher off the dance floor.

I just got home from this year's dinner and dance. I flew solo because my husband opted out so he could pick up our daughter from work. I had a nice dinner, won a cute cake plate with a snowman on it, and thought I'd hang around long enough to burn a few calories on the dance floor before beating the snowstorm home.

We had a live band this year. A blues band with saxophones, trumpets and the like. They started off with "Doin' It Right on the Wrong Side of Town" and my feet began tapping while I was still in my chair. A trio of people hit the floor and my feet slid out of their shoes. In an instant, I joined the dancers.

I usually dance with abandon and sometimes attract a little attention. I probably look like an idiot but heck, I'm having fun. However, this time I was upstaged by a little lady in red. She was probably about ten or fifteen years older than me, but she danced like a twenty-year old. She twirled and gyrated with enthusiasm, prompting shouts and whoops of encouragement from our co-workers.

I ran out of gas halfway through the song, and it took every ounce of energy I had just to stay alive until the end. My legs became rubber, like a hockey player's when he's been on the ice for an extra long shift.

By the time I reached my table, I was gasping for air as if I'd just run a marathon. I'm obviously out of shape. I called it a night and didn't dance anymore. Not due to exhaustion -- I probably could have gone another round after a short rest.

Some Depends would've helped, too.


bunnygirl said...

I love to dance and it drives me nuts that most men I've been with (including current spouse) hate dancing!

I had the best time at my 20-year high school reunion a few years ago because for two evenings I could dance non-stop!


Kanani said...

I think this means you need to get in shape by dancing every day! Yup, right before you start writing, just turn on the tunes and dance for... an hour. Then get on the floor and work on the abs. Just think! You'll be so exhausted all you can do afterwards is type!

Chumplet said...

I wonder if I can dance and type at the same time?

Church Lady said...

I can't dance. I loved the Seinfeld episode when Elaine thought she could dance--LOL!
I love music though. All kinds.

Chumplet said...

My husband says I dance like Elaine. I don't believe him.

Ello said...

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! That last line killed me! Because sometimes there is leakage! Lord, I haven't gone dancing in so long but I so used to love it! Something about dancing that just feels so good.

Holly Kennedy said...

Cute post! I greatly admire you for getting up and dancing at all. No one -- and I do mean NO ONE -- could drag me onto a dance floor. Not ever. I'm not good at it and feel overwhelmed with waves of such enormous self-awareness that I inevitably make a fool of myself.

Re: the lady in red? It's that Dancing with the Stars craze that's got her all fired up, I guess, huh? The contestants keep getting older and in better shape, making me shrink in my chair.
Have a good Christmas.

P.S. Loved your 'typing lego to the mouse legs' post on my blog!!

Holly Kennedy said...

I meant... TYING lego to the legs!