I was a shy kid.
Deathly shy….
To this day, I’m still shy. I just cover it up with smart-assyness and strategic silence.
In grade school I HATED school dances. This was the biggest opportunity for me to feel the most awkward possible in a social environment (well maybe next to reading ‘In Flander’s Fields’ in front of the entire school one Remembrance Day- which resulted in me barfing on the sleeve of my red sweater a few times before going on stage with my quivery recitation).
Boys never asked me to waltz until oh maybe grade 8. I remember my first dance at that point was a Halloween dance and I attributed being asked was the sole result of being clad in a fuzzy clown afro, large bulbous red nose and huge scarlet shoes – rendering me unrecognizable as the meek, mousy, brainy kid wearing her cooler Cher-loving aunt’s tweed and leather mix blazer.
Second waltz was in grade 8 with one of the school’s ‘bad boys’ , one RA- who rode a unicycle, a sleeveless denim jacket and smoked a pack a day (for an 8th grader- that’s pretty impressive). The waltz resulted in a ‘misconduct’ on the dance floor from the eagle-eyed teacher patrol unit- albeit mild behaviour compared to what is being done in most school gymnasiums while the Lohan/Hilton/Spears jams rock at full blast.
The school dancing career really ended for me in grade 9 my interest turned towards punk rock mosh pits and lurking in my friends basements or on quarter pipes.
Flash forward to the 90′s / early 00′s- where I discovered ‘raving’.. Yikes. I would go to parties and dance all night and well into the early morning. I think I made up for the lean dancing years of my youth. I’d still go to punk shows but something about being up all night, dancing with strangers who weren’t apt to shoot spitballs at me was relieving.
I can’t really remember the last time I danced. Probably when I lost really badly in a game of Dance Dance Revolution… I still rue the day Simmons…
I do know that I look forward to the ‘big dance’. The one where I am taken by the hand by the illustrious and irreplaceable Mr. TMcG and led onto the floor where we will bust out the funky chicken to The Pixies and have one of those classic photographic wedding moments that will cause us to well up every time we open the wedding album.
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