Worse Date Ever
Okay, having said that …
Years ago there was a scheduled annual dance and everybody – I mean EVERYBODY – looked forward to it, especially the women. It was formal so we got to dress up to the nines. Yes, indeed, we’d look and feel our most beautiful. I even remember the gown I wore. It was a slinkly black number that hit the curves just right and had a semi-slit up the right side. If ever there was a Cinderella night in my life, that was it.
I met Larry through friends. He was nice-looking, smart and every inch the gentleman. We enjoyed each other’s company and became very relaxed with one another. One night he brought up the subject of the formal. The next night he asked me if I’d go as his date. The next day I said yes (all right, I was being a little coy but he loved all this flirtatiousness). Since Larry had told me he wasn’t what you’d call a party animal but enjoyed the occasional night out, I visualized us walking into that affair looking like Prince Charming and his finally-found mate then dancing the night away under the stars.
I can’t begin to tell you how extremely excited I was! So much so I sprang for it all! Hair, make-up, you name it. The way I pictured him in formal wear I couldn’t help myself from thinking we’d be the talk of the town for the rest of the week!
The night of the event came and into my home he stepped to pick me up. Larry looked handsome and I can still remember how glorious his cologne smelled. He could not have been more generous with his praise of how I’d put myself together and I thought if he kept that up he might just land me. Or, at least, be well on his way.
The crowd was large went we arrived. Large and loud and happy. The women looked fantastic and the men looked awesome. What a night this was going to be! Music was going full speed ahead and the dance floor was jamming! Trays of appetizers were being passed around by super-looking waiters as well as those always-there-at-special-occasions stems of champagne. We spotted some people we knew and before long we were knee-deep in conversations. I was almost swooning. This was going to be a night to be remembered! I just knew it in my bones.
I recall a friend tapping me on the shoulder and asking if I’d join her in the ladies room. Excusing myself we headed off. We weren’t there long but I remember walking back into the dance hall. “Mustang Sally” was playing and folks were going wild! Well, I thought, why not, it’s a great dance song. I looked around for Larry but couldn’t see him anywhere. Then I heard a gasp. My friend told me to turn around but do it slowly. Very, very slowly. I did as instructed and saw Larry out there on the dance floor. My reaction was immediate: I went into shock (concealed shock). WHAT ON EARTH WAS HE DOING!
Now, we’ve all had mediocre dance partners. We’ve all had bad dance partners. But what I was looking at was positively spasmadic! Larry had absolutely no rhythm, no coordination and was all over that floor bumping into people, stepping on their toes, jabbing them with elbows, filling up more space than he had a right to, the works! Plus, it was obvious by that cock-eyed grin on his face he had no idea just how terrible he was! What amazed me most was how he couldn’t seem to comprehend that people were trying to put as much distance between him and them! Larry just kept following the crowd!
I wanted the floor to just do me a huge favor and swallow me whole. I know I invented a new shade of red, one with purplish undertones.
When conciousness finally gripped me my first all-consuming thought was: he’s going to expect me to get on that dance floor with him! He’s going to drag me all over! My next thought was: somebody had consented to dance with him but they must have fled because Larry seemed to be out there by himself. Having a jolly old time. Alone and not giving a damn, either! What was I going to do?
Watching him with his twitches and turns I knew I’d never put myself in the position of being known as ‘the person who danced with that guy”, especially when I was groomed within an inch of my life! I’d finally managed to look stunning and this is what I got for my efforts? Being on a date with someone looking like they were having a Come-To-Jesus heart attack on a dance floor?
Unfortunately, the music seemed to go on forever but eventually, Larry became exhausted enough to sit down. He spotted me sitting in a corner and wanted to know when I was ready to let these people show how ‘real’ boogying is done! Real boggying? With someone who was close to putting people’s eyes out? I knew I’d never live that down – and really WOULD be the talk of the town.
I’m not a mean date, or a ‘bitchy’ woman so all I could think of was telling Larry I had to leave because my cycle was starting and if I didn’t get off my feet right away my medication wouldn’t work right (this was so pathetic even I was embarrassed for saying it). With the Grace of the Almighty, he bought it.
I’m not looking for Fred Astaire, but I’ll tell you this. I like to dance and think it’s pretty nice when I’m dancing with someone who has some modicum of talent (in other words, the beat penetrates the brain). Larry was out the ozone and that’s putting it nicely. As it turned out I somehow managed to remain friends with Larry (no way was he gonna ‘land me’. Sorry, but I’m not about to be tied to a physical hazard for the rest of my life and Larry thought he was SOME kind of dancer!)
This was without a doubt the worst date I ever had, and here I was all dressed up and probably looking better than I’d ever looked in my entire life. Sometimes, there just ain’t no justice.
P.S. The girl Larry finally married thought he was a wonderful dancer. Figures. She had sixteen left feet herself.
