Friday night I went contra dancing for the first time in a year. Contra is dorky fun - it's kind of like square dancing, but a little easier and more geometric. And it's danced in big long lines, where couples progress up and down the lines. I really like it, but, like any event that allows physical contact with members of the opposite sex, it attracts its share of mildly skeevy middle-aged men. Most of them are really good dancers, so they're tolerable. But you know what's gross? When you put your left hand on a dude's shoulder and you can feel his back hair poking through his shirt. I mean, really. Ugh.
On the plus side, I finally saw contra boy (I hadn't gone in a year because I'd been avoiding this guy I briefly dated, yes, I have issues, thank you for reading, don't forget to tip your waitress) and it was awkward but fine. And now the first awkward meeting is over with, phew. I was super glad B.Nick was there to protect me, although he needs to develop the part of his social radar that tells him he shouldn't wander off when a skeevy guy is attempting to engage me in conversation.
And on the other plus side, I danced with a *totally* cute tall goofy boy. (Slight minus: he appeared to have come to the dance with his cute tall goofy girlfriend.) His name was Hiram. Who names their kid Hiram? I mean, really. Have you ever met a Hiram under the age of 30? Or 70, for that matter?
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4 comments:
hahaha, Bikeboy's landlord is named Hiram!
There's this great song by a childrens' singer named Barry Louis Polisar that goes, "My name is Hiram Lipschlitz and my problem's pretty clear..."
And that's the whole song. It's cute.
Ha! That's great. Reminds me of the camp song "John Jacob Jingleheimerschmidt."
Yay contra dancing! When I told Mr. Mister you went contra dancing he laughed and looked at me like I had just said you flew to Jupiter. Apparently he has never been contra dancing.
Yeah - I don't imagine contra dancing would be his thing. I'm planning on going again tomorrow.
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