B and I decided we’d be a waltzing couple (when it became appropriate for us to stop bouncing and bopping). When the waltz stopped and the jive and disco started, we hit the floor. I have now realised that couples need practice in order to coordinate their jive. Say this to B and he’ll shoot back ‘You have to improvise, see?’ before breaking into his Coorg tribal dance butt-shake while I’m still waiting for him to dip me. Sure, salsa classes helped, but then after a point he refused to attend, saying that he was spending money to watch me dance with other guys. (Our class had an acute shortage of girls, so we’d rotate.)
While we weren’t dancing, we were (okay, I was) checking out the women on the lawn and on the floor. Spotted were plenty of ladies I would love to look like when I become fifty. Speaking of attractive women, I saw Hot Gym Lady who comes to work out in the morning. At one point Dilettante and I were so busy checking out Hot Gym Lady (he, being more tactful than I, managed a great view - owing mostly to his height) while we were wildly flailing our legs in a can-can sort of item number, when we banged shins as a result of our shameless ogling - after which we decided to do the twist instead.
And Z would look lovingly at IJ sitting behind the drums and smile whenever he looked up and made eye contact. Z eventually confessed she was missing him. So, anticipating a break in between songs, we walked around to his end of the stage waiting for him to jump down. He disappeared backstage just then only to join B and Dilettante at the other side, looking for Z. That was such a movie moment.
I’d say we make excellent groupies!