Thursday, 10 October 2013

A Dance is as Good as a Rest (or Better)

I've got my timetable now fairly much under control I think, but work are still assigning me hours. I ended up working yesterday morning, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't teach on a Tuesday night. As a consequence I was pretty knackered yesterday, though luckily I had the afternoon to chill and hang out with P and Miss T. We had a cheap and cheerful lunch - the girl at the bar was dressed as a chicken and later on a man came in who was dressed as a hot dog. After that we had a wander around town and then went for a coffee at Pret - where I had a in-depth conversation with the man behind the counter about calling people madam, miss, or lady (he professed that he really hates being called sir or mister, and would rather be dude, mate or pal, frankly). Then Miss T ran home to change into her jive skirt while P and I nearly missed the last Park n Ride bus - I had to put my hands on the bus door and look like a sad puppy til they let us on. At which point P started worrying about whether she could remember which car was hers, and it was getting dark. It was ok, it was fairly much the only car left in the car park, so all good there. We managed to get to Jive without running over any pedestrians - it was a narrow call though ('He's wearing black! Why hasn't he got reflective clothing on?' 'Yes, but your car is also black, hmmmm.')

So we made it to Jive where upon everyone was still playing pool and smoking. I was all raring to go, just waiting for the furniture to be moved out the way so we could dance, which made Miss T giggle quite a lot. The legendary Phil had been at the bar for a while and had consumed a fair few pints (I should imagine) so he taught a couple of moves and then spent the rest of the night chatting and dancing alternately. Miss T and I hit the dance floor, I got a few dances in with Red and a good few (and a rather lovely chat) with Ingrid. It's probably the most I've ever danced at a dance lesson actually.

As the evening wore on, I started to get more and more tired - I hadn't had much sleep as you may recall, and neither had Miss T - which meant more and more giggles. Which turned into giggling fits. More and more people started to leave the bar and head home (or to another pub) and we were left with a hardcore few - and the barman, who did end up learning a few moves at the end of the night. P and Miss T joined me in some silly dancing and generally having a mess about - at one point someone told us that we needed to behave with more decorum! Before you know it all the classic moves had come out - 'changing the lightbulb', 'mopping the floor', 'shaking the dice' - to the point where the legendary Phil came over and asked what we were doing. 'Big fish, little fish, cardboard box' I replied (doing the suitable hand movements). 'Fish? What? Are you part of the angling society or something?!'. I have no idea what he was doing in the 90s, obviously not following popular culture. Miss T gave me a really massive hug at some point and exclaimed 'I finally know what you smell like! Cinnamon and oranges and cloves and Christmas. Yeah, you smell of Christmas.'

More and more drinking was had, I got a few slow dances in with the legendary Phil, a few more ridiculous dances in with Miss T, and before you know it I was making my excuses and running away. If I hadn't had work at 8.45 this morning I'd have stayed til the small hours. P gave me a lift home, bless her, and I was off to bed to try and get some sleep. Needless to say I'm absolutely knackered today, but in such a good mood - there are times when the tiredness is worth it. I sat in a physics lecture on Fire and Explosions from 9 - 11 am this morning - and actually really enjoyed it, such is the power of a good night out dancing. I think all of us needed to let our hair down, and so we did. I wish every night out was as good as that one! It was entirely unexpected and completely delightful. Rock it!

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