Thursday, September 29, 2016


Last Saturday I did something I love to do that I haven't done for about ten years, maybe even longer. I danced. It might shock many of my friends that I love dancing. Not proper dancing though, I can only dance in the unstructured, uncoordinated flailing, gyrating, leaping and landing that should really be deemed a danger to bystanders. During my university days, I loved the parties for the chances to dance, and dance I did for hours on end. But then my love interests were never that interested and thus my dancing was shelved and those bystanders were spared the risk of losing an eye.

But last Saturday I went to a night club as part of a stag night. Most of our group were a little awkward in the environment though and significantly older than almost everyone, which makes you wonder why we went there. There was a lot of leaning against the railing, people watching and drinking. The latter eventually had its effect in the third and fourth hour when everyone finally was dancing, at least a little. I was bouncing around from the get-go though, at first just facing my group, but then with one of the two groups either side of us and finally after midnight a lot of the early groupings dissolved I danced with anyone.

The early phase of dancing with other groups was a little weird. There was a Hen's Night to one side, and quite naturally they were more interested in dancing with each other. They also viewed interlopers with suspicion. My appearance probably didn't help either. I do look my years, balding, and dangerously flicking my limbs around without any of the typical motifs or dance cliches. They did eventually mix. Whether by design or by nature, most of the girls there were more inward facing. They would dance with their friends unless persuaded and sold on the idea of mixing.

To our other side there was another party almost entirely male, probably not much beyond high school. I'm not averse to dancing with guys but they were a little odd. One young guy was most willing to interact but flitted around and seemed to make eyes. Another rather larger set fellow welcomed me in a different way, first rather aggressively doing the female side of a grind dance with me, which I brushed off, and later decided to pick me off the ground. I'm not sure whether they were gay, sexually ambiguous, playing with me or what.

One of the other Stags mentioned later he'd have punched the guy saying he was impressed that I hadn't, but said if I had "well, the night would have been over." Perhaps due to my temperament it didn't even occur to me to punch him. (It'd be interesting to think what it would take for me to take a shot at someone.)

The night only got better. That lot cleared out and the drunker the Stags got the more we were a dancing presence.

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