Years ago, when I used to go to church dances, the leaders would talk to us about the amount of space that needed to remain between the dancers. “You should be able to put the bible in between the two of you,” they advised. None of us, at least none of my friends, carried a bible around and we were all horrible at guestimating, so I’m pretty sure we violated the rules on more than one occasion.
Speaking of violating rules, after drinking and pedaling around town for several hours, the #antiboredom group decided to finish the night out at a bar that has recently decided it is posh. We arrived to find roped lines, bouncers in suits, reserved sections and a ton of assholes. Yep, this place was posh.
We immediately started dancing – us in our heavy metal 80s gear, the rest of the crowd attempting to dress to impress – and, a few songs in, I was asked, “Will you dance with my friend?” “Sure,” I obliged. The friend, who was probably just barely 21 and who spent way more time in the gym than on the dance floor, pulled me in tight and would not let me go. This seemed to be his preferred dance style and I immediately wished someone would bring me a bible, stat!
As the song neared the end, I imagined my freedom. Luckily, my imagination was as strong as his hold – he wasn’t letting go. I was able to turn around so my back was to him. Doing so, not surprisingly, did not change his dance moves. Tight and close continued on until a few songs later when I was finally able to make it out of his hold. “What was that all about?” “He’s your daughter’s age.” “Could you feel his thing?” were just some of the comments from the #antiboredom group.
I’m not really sure where he learned to dance, but I am sure I am going to have to stay at a motel room so I can steal a bible because I really don’t want to experience that kind of closeness on the dance floor again. Besides, if you’re going to break the rules by stealing something, it may as well be a bible – the Lord is sure to forgive that act.