Dancing With “X” Girl
In my head, there are a million stories just rolling around hoping for a chance to be heard. Lacking the ability to see inside the heads of others, I make the assumption that this is a trait that exists in all of us, so I guess we are all alike in that manner. I do feel, however, that there lies a difference in “indexing applications” from person to person. Bear with me and don’t give up. I promise I’m going somewhere with this. In my head, there a million memories of people, places, experiences, colors, smells, and on and on and on. But I’m fascinated by the ability of the human brain to separate people and experiences in a single location over some time. Once such memory involves a place, some friends, other characters, over some time. Now, over that same period, at that same place, with the same friends, there are other memories involving different characters and different experiences, but they are not as memorable. So to try to clear this up, read on.
The time of this story is the late 80’s, probably 1987 or 1988. I was newly divorced and adjusting to being single again. The place was a bar that I went to almost every Monday night and I’m recalling that it was from Spring through most of the Summer. Depending on the night, I might go alone, or with a friend or two, or I might invite a female companion along. The un-named “character” was a young, absolutely gorgeous brunette, who wore heels and sexy outfits, and at first glimpse, most guys might entertain hopes but quickly relegated that possibility as “out of our league.” At least that was my thought the first time I saw her, especially given the fact that I was in that post-divorce state with no confidence, no money, and just figuring things out again. Most guys had their initial impressions confirmed within moments of her arrival as she and some “lucky” guy would hit the dance floor. This young lady could dance! I mean she was good! As Andy Griffith might say, she was “forevermore good a while!” So I chalked it up as something that would never happen. I would never get a chance to dance with her. I couldn’t even get the nerve up to introduce myself. So Monday after Monday, though other characters and other things were going on in the bar, I would watch with interest as she arrived, grabbed a guy and dance. Then I started to realize she only left the dance floor when slow tempo songs were played. She would take her place at the bar and sip on a drink. Further observation revealed that she drank from a clear plastic cup, meaning that she only drank water. Stay with me here. I know that you are figuring this out, but remember, this whole experience was playing out during a 2 – 3-hour span of time, every Monday night.
After a few weeks, I began to recognize who the “regulars” were in the bar, and I began to realize that she was indiscriminate about who she danced with. I was beginning to think that I might have a shot at meeting her and possibly dancing with her. Then a female friend of mine pointed out that she wasn’t dancing “with” the guys, she was just dancing. The guy was just out there for a supporting role. So I watched and considered what I was seeing, given this new point-of-view. The more I watched, the more I realized how foolish the guy looked as even the better dancers among them couldn’t keep up. Those who were “challenged” on the dance floor, those who were older, those who were overweight, and those who appeared to have money didn’t have a choice than to look stupid. I made up my mind that I would not be one of them, and more importantly, I had been educated that the energy, the water intake, the sweating, and the fact that she always left alone, all indicated that she was using Extasy and truly only wanted to dance.
Then a Monday rolled around in which I had taken off work due to a dentist appointment where I had two wisdom teeth extracted in the morning. This was when these types of dental procedures were done like routine teeth cleaning. It was several years before these procedures were done by an oral surgeon under the watchful eye of medical professionals. They just put you in the chair, leaned you back, gassed you up and they pulled and left behind a hole packet with a medicated sponge. The dentist did at least give some precautionary advice in the form of aftercare instruction, but I was too gassed and out of it to listen. So about 6:30 that evening, I had slept for several hours and decided to call my buddy. I informed Stuart that I was bored and due to the dental appointment, I would only be going for a couple of beers and would make it an early night.
By this point, I had become acquainted with the owner of the bar, the bartenders and wait staff, and the DJ, who allowed Stuart and I to join him in the DJ booth. It was early and the DJ was just getting the playlist together and I saw her as she came through the door. She smiled and waved as she passed us in the DJ booth heading for her spot at the bar where the bartender had a cup of ice water waiting. She was as beautiful as I had seen her that night, wearing a very tight orange dress that clung to her and barely covered her “attributes.” I can only paint an image of a short tight orange dress that was cut low in the front and had some openings on the side kind of like an hourglass if that makes sense. After a few minutes, the music started. Stuart and I grabbed our beers and began to exit the elevated DJ booth. Stuart exited the big step down from the booth first and as I stepped out my head was turned speaking to the DJ. As I closed the little gate behind me, I turned and there she was. She said, “would either of you like to dance?” I want you to know before I could say a word, Stuart said, “I’ll hold your beer.” She grabbed my hand, turned towards the dance floor and away we went. I tried to match her moves and having watched for all of this time, I knew that she would turn her back to her partner from time to time, and this is when he looked the most alone out there.
I had been in college back when Urban Cowboy had been released, so I spent many nights two-stepping in Country Music bars and was pretty good at it. But on the floor with this beautiful creature, knowing that there were plenty of people watching as I had, I knew that I couldn’t keep up. Captivated as I was by her though, the old American male don’t quit attitude came out. The first song ended, and I leaned in, hugged her, thanked her for the dance and started to leave the dance floor, but she would have none of that. She dragged me back and embarrassed by the fact that I know other guys had seen it, I tried to at least keep up. Failing miserably, I saw that she was about to make her turn, so I applied a two-step move where I grabbed her hand and timed my move so that at the very least, I wasn’t out there alone. I’m pretty sure that by this gesture, she mistakenly assumed that I knew what I was doing and she turned it up a notch. I did my best and tried to look like I was having a ton of fun, but I was embarrassed and I was miserable. After the fourth song, she was going strong and I was sweating profusely. Again, I thanked her and started to leave and she dragged me back, but I explained that I had had the dental procedure that day and that she was about to kill me.
Thankfully, this all occurred before everybody carried a video camera with them everywhere they go. I don’t think I would like to see a video of that. I was glad that on this particular night, we had been there early before the place got crowded that only one of my friends was there to witness. It was and still is his word against mine. I play it off as a humorous memory mostly, but sometimes, I recount the story as that time I danced with the most beautiful woman in the bar and left her wanting more.
By way of conclusion, I ran into her a few years later. She was at work in a store at the mall. She was still beautiful as ever, just not dressed for a night on the town. I spoke to her and told her that I remembered her from before. She looked a little ashamed of herself with the memory and discounted it to it being a “long time ago,” and that she had a child, I think a little girl, and that she didn’t get out much anymore. I told her that it was good to see her again and exited, never letting on that I knew that she had been involved with extasy back then and I left her with the assumption that “X” was no longer a part of her life. I also left, replaying the reel in my head of her on the dance floor, the music playing loud.