Save The Last Dance For Me
That title might be misleading. I don’t dance.
That is, until last Thursday night.
I mean, I have danced at weddings after a few too many drinks. There was a memorable slam dance in a mosh pit at The Melody Bar in New Brunswick, NJ in the late eighties where I was the last man standing.
But for me to be on a small dance floor dancing to classic rock, it would have to be under extraordinary circumstances.
Thursday night, there were.
Went out to see a friend (Lori) who isn’t in this area much. She moved to a town nearly two hours away. She came up to see a band at a local bar. I debated with myself about whether I should go and decided to meet her.
When I arrived, I saw her sitting at a table with a group of people I did not know, with one exception. The table was close to the band, so it was nearly impossible to have a conversation without shouting. A few minutes later, a woman joined the group. She was tall and beautiful, and I gave up my seat so she could talk with Lori without losing her voice.
This may be my imagination, so take it with a grain of salt, but I felt like we exchanged several glances. We held each other’s gaze for a second or two, then turned our heads away. This went on until, almost in unison, everyone at the table, except me, moved to the dance floor.
After a minute or two, as I watched them dance, this beautiful woman (whose name I still did not know) looked at me and waved me onto the dance floor.
Without hesitation, I stood up and joined her.
Why, since I said I don’t dance?
When a beautiful stranger calls you up to dance, you dance.
As awkward as I felt (no idea what to do with my hands), I had a great time.
For five or so songs, we danced next to each other. Our shoulders periodically touched between notes. The looks and laughs continued for longer than I expected.
When the band took a break, I offered to buy her a drink. She accepted, and we moved to the back of the bar where our conversation continued.
Turns out we had similar goals in life. Finding a lasting relationship, for one. I told her about my writing. I told her how a friend had told me I was the type of person who listens to the universe.
She agreed with that idea.
By the end of the night, I had asked for her number and offered to buy her a drink sometime.
She replied, “That’s a possibility.”
The next morning, because we never really leave high school, I called Lori for some background on her friend.
She had nothing but glowing things to say about her. She also said that we looked good together on the dance floor.
Then Lori added one more detail.
After speaking with Lori, I called the woman.
We talked for a bit about how much fun the night before had been. I added that she might never realize what a big deal it was to get me out on the dance floor.
“My friends won’t believe that I actually danced,” I said.
“They never have to find out,” she replied.
Then I laughed, “Oh, I’m going to tell them!”
To be honest, I told her I had spoken to Lori.
“I know,” she said.
(See, always high school)
After some more light banter, I brought up that extra detail Lori had mentioned.
I asked if she was seeing someone.
Without hesitation, she said, “Yes.”
She said she had been caught up in the moment, and that’s why she had given me her number.
I understood. After all, who could resist my devilish charm?
(Apparently, everyone)
We spoke for a while after that, until she had to get back to work.
So even though this potential relationship didn’t develop as I had hoped, let’s look at what did happen.
I went out to meet a friend and listen to music instead of staying home. Met some new friends, even danced with a woman I had just met. We laughed and smiled and talked on the dance floor.
I offered to buy her a drink, and she accepted. At the bar, our conversation continued. We exchanged phone numbers, and I went home with a smile.
That rarely happens to me, especially all at once.
But it happened last Thursday night.
Bottom line, there will always be another dance. Either with the universe or a beautiful woman.
All I know is that, in the end, I want someone to save the last dance for me.
