Sunday, December 14, 2008

Ring a Ding Ding

My ears are ringing. I just arrived home from an evening of dancing. My old school friend/DJ was in town doing a gig at a local boutique/eatery (weird location). I would just like to say that I am officially old. Don't. Don't argue with me. Because my body would like to tell you otherwise. My back is stiff and aching (I don't even want to think about what it's going to feel like tomorrow), my knee is hurting as is my ankle which also got stiffer and stiffer the longer I danced. I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on myself. I can't remember the last time I danced for about 3 hours straight.

I went by myself and not one of the people I invited were able to make it. I ran into an acquaintance who invited me to dance with her which I did, the whole night. She is this drop dead gorgeous Czechoslovakian woman and I was staring at and coveting her cheekbones all evening. The music was superb but the crowd was irritating at best. The following would be my personal messages to some of the characters I was surrounded by.

To the girl with the hooker boots on that ended up in bare feet by the end of the night - Those boots aren't very practical for dancing. They aren't really practical for life actually.

To the two eighteen year old amorous couples - I could do without seeing you grind each other on the dance floor. This is not a club. People like you are specifically the reason why I decided to come to this event and why I avoid clubs. Please take your dirty business elsewhere.

To the drunk woman with the sparkly shirt - Please stop bumping into me. Your shirt is giving me road rash every time you touch me. If you are too intoxicated to dance perhaps you should sit down. Or another novel idea would be, go home, sleep it off and rethink that shirt.

To the guy with the 90's Matchbox 20 hair - You are not cool. No one is attracted to you. I know you were a stud once and could probably get any girl you wanted but those days have long passed. Now you are just a short, drunk guy with an outdated haircut who everyone is trying to ignore.

To my Czechoslovakian acquaintance - Why must you be so beautiful? You are very nice and I love listening to your accent but you are making me look bad. Also, I can't stop envying your cheekbones.

And this is what several people were probably thinking about me.

To the lady in the pigtails - Dude. Don't you think you are a little too old for pigtails? Why don't you get a cute short haircut like that gorgeous Czechoslovakian woman you're dancing with? You dance like someone who doesn't get out much and what is with your boobs? You totally look like you need to go and feed a baby or something.

And guess what? I do.

4 comments:

papa d said...

matchbox 20, 90's... hmm... like this?
? Hee Hee.

elizasmom said...

OMG — If I ever went out dancing, I think I would have the exact same experience, except it would be my back seizing up, not my ankle, by the end of the night. And OMG 90 Matchbox 20 hair — what a totally apt description of one of the banes of my existence!

bon said...

snrk!

jen k said...

you know.
had me and Jod not been doing a
family function the same night, and me inventory at midnight..we
would totally have joined you...