Shut Up and Dance (Further Adventures in the Southern Single Scene)

Swinging Mondays; or Why I Avoid Conversation While Dancing

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                                                                           _______

"So what do you do, Emily?"

"I'm a language teacher."

"Cool. I'm really into languages too. I speak binary."

Yeah you do. And you also haven't been out of your basement in three years judging by the color of your skin and the subtle perfume of Cheetos hanging about you.

"That's...fascinating. So you can talk to robots, huh? Like R2D2? Haha. I'm hilarious.

"I guess I should explain. Binary isn't actually a spoken language. Although R2's beeps and whistles might be an attempt to put binary code into auditory form. Also, R2D2 is not a robot. He's am astromech droid."

I have made a terrible mistake...

                                                                       _________

"My name is E."

E...than? E...an? E...lijah? Did I hear him correctly?

"Oh...and what is that short for?"

"It isn't short for anything. That's my name."

Okay, buddy. You're not gonna put anything over on me. That's not a name. It's a letter.

He rocked back and forth, snapping his fingers. I matched myself to his rhythm and then waited for him to initiate the dance (don't lead, Emily, don't lead).

I waited. And waited. Snap, rock, snap, rock.

He flashed me a flirty smile and then lifted an eyebrow suggestively. "So, come here often? What brings you out here?" Snap, rock, snap, rock.

I looked around at the bare room - no bar, no food, someone with a laptop and an iTunes full of Benny Goodman in the corner. Also lots of people who seemed to think woolen tights were a good decision for a Georgia summer night in a crowded dance hall with no air conditioning (to be fair, they did look good with thick rimmed glasses and obscure band tee shirts).

"I like to dance."

"Yeah, me too. Love it." Snap, rock, snap, rock.

Do you, E? Do you really?

 Snap, rock, snap, rock. I couldn't handle it anymore. "How about a spin?" and I led myself into it.

"Oh, you're one of those Type A personalities, huh?"

"Well I am from the North. I guess we tend to be a little more forward."

"Yeah, I was in Chicago once."

?? 

I felt like we had just been having a conversation about the stormy weather and he dropped the information that he had taken a shower that morning.

                                                                       ________


My next partner was a very stocky guy, to put it charitably.

"My name is Drew. What's your name again?"

Again? Have we met before?

"Emily."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

It is? Are you sure? Who are you?

"So, are you a big dancer, Drew?"

"One of the biggest ones here, wouldn't you agree?"

Ehhhh, what? How am I supposed to respond to that? "Yeah, you are really fat!" or "I appreciate your sense of humor about your obesity"? How about, "I see what you did there...self-deprecating fat joke with witty play on words"? Or, if we're being frank, "Well that was funny for one of us, but now I'm horribly uncomfortable."

Actual response? "Oh, em...uh...no! What I mean is, you just seem like really know your way around the dance floor. Derp.

                                                                             _______


Scott was a very good dancer. Too bad we didn't focus on dancing.

"I'm a graphic designer for the Weather Channel."

"Well...that's really cool." Oh come on, Emily. Is that the best you can do? Don't be intimidated by the cardigan.

"So do you get to make those important decisions like whether a thundercloud is slate or cobalt?"

Silence. Polite half smile. Then,

"How often do people mistake you for one of your students?"

Okay, obviously not impressed by my humorous conversation skills. And I teach 12 year olds, you hippie, so thanks for that. I also own the shirt that you're wearing and it definitely came from the Women's section at JCrew so don't get smart with me.

                                                                             _______

Peter was a lawyer.

"You teach Latin? How fantastic. So you're brilliant as well as gorgeous."

And you are old enough to be my father. I really prefer to dance in silence. Also, you need to spend a little more time worrying about what your feet are doing, sir. That routine really only worked for Jimmy Stewart in It's A Wonderful Life. 

"My mother was a Latin teacher."

"Oh, no way."

"Ablative absolutely."

A little piece of me just died.

"So what does a Latin teacher do for fun on the weekends? Are you free on Friday night?"

Ablative absolutely not.