Alone and Unobserved

During several of my undergraduate semesters at BYU, I danced or engaged in dance-related activities for upwards of three hours a day (sometimes more than five), on top of my actual classes. Even though that killer schedule was partially to blame for many of the physical problems I have to this day (numbness in my toes, tendinitis in my heel, various inflamed nerves, etc.), I still look back on those days with unmitigated fondness and nostalgia. Which is why, when I get the opportunity to dance uninhibitedly for hours on end, I seize the chance with teeth, hands and toes and worry it to death like an angry terrier attacking a bone. Yesterday evening is a case in point.

At 8 pm yesterday, I went contra dancing with my friend/coworker Courtney at the Unitarian Church on 13th East in Salt Lake. This is the smaller of the two contra-dancing venues in the valley, which makes it both cozier and hotter and (in some ways) more fun. Last night was a trip and a half. Observe:

1. The room was even hotter than normal, and I quickly became dehydrated in spite of drinking a gallon of water between each set. Dehydrated, in my case, implies crazy and ecstatic.
2. The ratio of cute to non-cute guys was unusually high. Not that most of the men who come are ugly, they just aren’t my type. (Which in this case means “middle-aged and/or married.”)
3. One of the callers, who has earned my undying gratitude, led us through a sequence titled “Equal Opportunity,” in which—wait for it!—at one point, the guys were suddenly partnering the guys, and the ladies the ladies. Olé!

Put these three components together, and they equal a very good time for me.

After contra dancing was over, Courtney and I headed over to another coworker’s house for a party. [I know! Me? At a party? But it's true!] Remember that we had just finished three hours of almost non-stop dancing. But there was some great music playing at the party, and by then I was not only semi-dehydrated (despite continuing to guzzle water), but impossibly tired as well, so I went nuts and danced like a crazy person for another two hours.

Some firsts from the party:

• First time being asked if on drugs
  (Female coworker [after the first hour and a half of dancing]: You’re pretty hyper. Are you on something?
  Me [while flailing my arms and jumping up and down and kicking and spinning]: No.)
• First time playing Spin the Bottle
• First time French-kissing a girl
• First time French-kissing three different people in one hour
• First time discussing gay rights with a lesbian while at a (mostly) straight party, and then subsequently French-kissing her in front of everyone—twice

Things I did during the party that were sadly NOT firsts:

• Acting like a complete fool in front of who knows how many coworkers
• French-kissing a guy before learning his name
• Making self hoarse trying to talk over pounding dance music
• Continuing to try talking over pounding dance music even after going hoarse
• Feeling completely uncomfortable at a social event and not knowing who to talk to despite being acquainted with several people there

I had a great night, though. How not, when I got to dance for more than five straight hours?