I Won't Dance

Story Sent in by Amos:

I'm not a dancing expert, but I know my moves. Roseanne was excited to read (on my profile) that I did ballroom and she asked me where I liked to dance in the city. It didn't take long for us to plan a date involving dinner and dancing.

At dinner she iterated and reiterated how much she looked forward to going out to dance. She said that she knew Lindy, Charleston, and rattled off several other dances. I looked forward to see what she could do.

When we hit the dance floor and faced each other, she just grabbed my shoulders and rocked back and forth, just like at a middle school dance. It wasn't what I was expecting, and it caught me off guard.

"This is the Lindy," I told her, referring to the music that was playing.

"I know."

"...so let's do the Lindy."

"This is fine."

Thing is that it wasn't fine. We were the only morons in the place not doing the Lindy. People were looking at us.

"Do you know how to do the Lindy?" I asked her.

"Yes!" she hissed, "I'm doing it right now."

She wasn't, but I let it slide. After a little while, the style changed to Charleston, then I think to salsa. Regardless, each time I tried to do the right moves, she was just content to keep her arms on my shoulders and rock back and forth. She didn't even let me lead or spin her around. "I don't believe in spinning," she told me.

Finally, I grew a bit tired of it and asked her if it was okay if we switched partners for a dance or two.

"Of course!" she said, "I know that's how these things work. Let me know when you want me back."

I danced with a few other people for no more than three dances. When I looked around to find Roseanne, she was gone without a trace. I stuck around for a little while longer and danced with a few more people. It was fun, so at least the night wasn't a total loss.

I called her the next day and left a message to ask her what had happened. No response and so I left it at that.