I feel very awkward and silly when I dance, but there are times I feel even dumber if I don't. Like at a dance party.
I was at one tonight, so I danced. It was all right, I was all right. Except I sort of made a friend without meaning to.
Listen, I gave this guy no encouragement, except for the "hey, I'm a human and you're a human" eye contact that is everyone's due, and still, he zeroed in and started dancing right behind me like stink on shit. I was aware of this because I was dancing with my friend Dan most of the time, and Dan would get this amused and slightly alarmed look on his face whenever Mr. Friendly came up behind me and started doing his somewhat creepy thang. Then I would turn around, and my new pal would pretend to be otherwise occupied.
At first I thought it was just coincidence. But then I took a break and went back out, and eek, within seconds there he was out of nowhere, shadowing me. I was neither the hottest nor the most approachable girl there; why me?
Dan and I figured he was attracted to my shiny red vinyl purse. Except Dan attributed my friend's behavior merely to the purse's redness and shininess, you know, oooh, shiny! I suspected, however, that this guy was responding to something more primitive and insiduous.
The purse is red and shiny, yes, but then I realized that when I danced it was also slung across my shoulders and occasionally thwapping against my ass. From the back, I believe it may have looked enticing and irresistably sexual to him, like the engorged, shiny butt of an aroused female baboon.
Well, fuck. If that was really the case, the poor guy is hardly to blame. I mean, you can't fight biology. I should have just stuck to my dull green army surplus bag. Then everything would have been fine.