I Want to Dance with You - Laverne Addendum

If you haven't read Shirley's description of last night, please do that first. She explains the where, what, and what little there is to the why regarding our most recent adventure. This post is just to add a few paragraphs about some of the dancing partners I encountered. Between the two of us, we covered all the weirdos, and then some. Maybe we should not have pulled out the Vintage Victorias (killer push-up bras). My brother does refer to them as false advertising.

Stanley. Mentally handicapped. Gold chain/ large medallion/ all-black wearing guy who still sports the mullet. Very nice - and the first guy to ask me for a dance at the church venue. I will give him credit for that. He covered the basic 20 questions, including a bonus one at the end..."Do you know what day President Hinckley's birthday is on?" Apparently that is one of his prerequisites in a girl.

Dave. I'll be nice and not describe him - mainly because he's totally nondescript. However, he did ask me right off for my contact information. Because, you know, he needs a contact up north. Last night on the internet he met someone in a city even further north than where I live, but he needs one about as far north as I am. Because, you know, he has contacts. (This is exactly why I will never date online. There is always a Dave on the other end.)

Joe. This guy was a friend of Shirley's "Hi. Are you willing to have my kids?" guy. Let's call him James. James asked Shirley to dance twice. The first time I got snagged shortly after by Stanley. The second time I joked with him and said - "Are you really going to do this to me again? The least you can do is bring a friend over with you next time." After he recovered, he said that his friend Joe is actually interested in dancing with me, but is just too shy - and would I go ask him? Rather than stand there, I said sure.

James then pointed to the wall and said Joe is the African-American standing right there, in the striped shirt. Ok. Easy enough to pick out, right? So I walk over and asked a guy to dance...while James is running behind me saying no, no, the other one. Ooops. Apparently there were actually 2 African-American men at the dance (this particular area is not terribly diverse). One just happened to be standing closer than the other - who I noticed just a second too late. Very embarrassing, but oh so funny. Not one of my finest moments.

Bill. Looked and danced like Nathaniel from Enchanted. At least he didn't offer me a poisoned apple. However, he did want to dance a slow dance, then a fast dance, then a slow dance. I finally ran over to Laverne and yelled the code word "mustache" so we could get out of there. I looked and looked, but there was no Prince Edward side-kick near by.

Now, off to the next dance.

Barney. The first guy to ask me to dance at this one was in his late 60's - or older. Very courteous (what happened to old-school etiquette?). Actually smelled better than anyone I had danced with at the first dance. However, after about 30 seconds he asked if we could change our "dance move" to something closer to a shuffle. He had been dancing a while and was getting a little stiff. I had to stop myself from asking if he needed me to find him a chair, or get directions to the nearest Oxygen bar. Is that what call-girls do?

Moe. Or at least, that's what he said his friends call him. I wanted to ask what, then, do girls he just met call him?...but I didn't. He immediately started into some salsa/swing move and kept saying what great rhythm I had. "Was I sure I hadn't learned ballroom or salsa?" I totally avoided the 15 years of ballet training explanation, and tried to ignore the shaved mo-hawk he was sporting (granted, it was a short one). However, he did smile the whole time and had nice teeth. After two attempts at getting my number, I think he finally got the hint.

Bob. Just moved from anther state to be a football coach at a local high-school. He kept gum hanging out of his teeth the whole time. Probably how he does it on the field so he can talk and yell at the same time. Now, I appreciate the effort at nice breath, but please just use a mint if you cannot handle gum more appropriately. At least he didn't slap me on the butt.

So, these are the high-lights (or low-lights) of our crazy night. Both events were an eye opener. And, if you didn't have a sense of humor, you would have come home totally depressed. But, as Shirely said, our expectations were right on - so we could just enjoy the craziness and say we at least gave it a shot. With her new calling, it also helped us see what works and what doesn't. An age cap is definitely needed. I'm not interested in grand kids (yet). Plus, seeing the equivalent of your parents dancing all around you is just creepy.

Oh, and did we mention they had carrot sticks, rice-crispy treats and otter pops for the refreshments? I'm thinking the Primary President was involved.

Laverne