Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Dancing to our own beat

     Last week I was invited out to go dancing with Non-lesbian and her college friend who was in town.  Non-lesbian was trying to get me to wear a dress, a cocktail dress.  Yeah, there is no way I was going to do that.  I haven’t dealt with someone trying to get me in a dress in a long time, and I had gotten used to people respecting my choices and not pressuring me.  Non-lesbian reminded me of how I differed from other girls.  Anyways, the best bar in town for dancing is actually a gay bar, so we headed there.
     Her and her friend were dressed in well…dresses and I, on the urging of my roommate, wore a nice button up and dark jeans.  No one at the club besides the straight women was particularly dressed up.  Perhaps they did it because they felt they needed a sign for all those *gasp* lesbians *ungasp* to keep away.  Didn’t matter, no lesbians at this gay bar (well except for me).  No, this is one of those gay bars populated by gay men and straight women, and sometimes their boyfriends.
     Non-lesbian decides to invite the guy she’s has two dates with, who hasn’t kissed her yet (she can't believe it!).  When he arrives he is the most precious, but awkward software engineer ever.  He won’t dance, or loosen up, not even a little.   
     I get bored real easily, so at this point I was about to gnaw me eyes out, anything to get myself to bed and away.  Then I see a girl sitting by the side, and I think she’s watching me.  I figure it’s because I’m actually dancing and not grinding up on someone.  So I make the decision then to dance for her.  I stay dancing in a group with Non-lesbian and her friend, but in my head I decided it’s all for her.
     About five minutes later I see the girl has left, and I’m a bit disappointed, but when I turn around there she is ten feet to my left.  She is dancing alone.  I can’t help but smile.  I’ve got a dancing partner.  We’re nowhere near close to each other.  I continue dancing with my group, but in my head I’m dancing with the strange girl.
     She’s a peculiar little thing.  They way she’s dancing reminds me of Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter.  She’s dancing like she doesn’t have a care in the world.  She doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her.  She is truly free.  I am envious.  The strange girl and I dance on and off for about an hour.
     I could have danced longer, but I had to get up early in the morning.  I looked for the strange girl, but she was nowhere to be found.  My group left the club.  As we were walking outside in the cold, someone comes running over to us and stops in front of me.  It was the strange girl.
     “I had a great time dancing with you tonight.” 
     I was in shock, so I stuttered, “you…you too!” and then with a smile the strange girl was off.  I couldn’t believe it.  I had constructed this fantasy of dancing with her, all in my head, but she was right there with me, ten feet away.  Dancing separately, yet together.
     I should have asked her for her number, her name, anything.  She was pretty, possibly high, but I haven’t had that much fun dancing in months.  Non-lesbian and friends brushed off the encounter, but that night will stay with me for a long time to come.
     In other news: I’m calling it.  Non-lesbian is straight, though I feel like I did bring out some bi feelings in her.  I wish her well with her dorky software engineer.  

QBP: "I see dance being used as communication between body and soul, to express what it too deep to find for words."  -Ruth St. Denis


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