of dancing with strange men

Really? This is the third time this week. What’s gotten into you? The boyfriend is obviously puzzled about your sudden willingness to go out more often. Sure, you like dancing but going out three days a week isn’t really your scene. At least it wasn’t your scene until ten days ago. He says he will meet you there.

Now, you find yourself drawn to this place like iron filings to a magnet. A magnate, you should say, for it’s the person you’re interested in, not the place.

You’re always jittery as you enter a club alone. Will he be there? But this time, your heart is pounding. He’s there, sitting on one of the bar stools. Your bar stool.

You walk up to the spot and the waiter greets you. He turns around, only to be blinded by your dazzling smile. You can see that he likes what he sees. You’re good at looking good.

All he can muster is a Hello. Not hi, not hey, but hello. Who the hell says hello these days?

I know you from somewhere.

Really? I don’t think so.

Which car do you drive?

Umm.. I don’t drive. You’re lying through your teeth and he knows that.

But you do dance. Very well.

You’re having a really good time, and for the first time you’re thankful that the boyfriend is running late. Life couldn’t be more perfect.

Separator

P.S. There’s more to this story:

Here’s how it started. I met him on the highway, and because we knew we were never going to see each other again, we flirted like crazy. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. I met him again at my favorite spot in town, what a coincidence, which brings me to this story. After we danced, things went awry, at least for me.  I think it’s finally over, our little game. It makes me sad that the chase is over, but such is life!

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anawnimiss

Blogger. Crazy bitch. Stalkee. Weirdo magnet. Wannabe housewife. Corporate Slave. Find me at anawnimiss.wordpress.com!

21 thoughts on “of dancing with strange men”

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