Feetloose

Story Sent in by Jeremy:

Margaret's profile was a lucky find. Her profile was titled, "Seeking Dance Partner," and like me she was a ballroom dancer. I could think of no better first date than going out to a dance together.

One of the first things I noticed about her was her feet. I know that sounds weird, but they (or at least her shoes) were enormous. They were bigger than mine by at least a few sizes. As a dancer, I notice these things and realized that missing her feet while dancing would be tough but not impossible. I didn't say anything about it to her, and she didn't bring it up.

After a light dinner, we went to the studio where there was a class going on followed by a full dance. We danced for a bit, but I kept stepping on her feet. Partially because they were big, but also because she always seemed a step or so behind. The first couple of times I apologized and she laughed it off. But when it kept happening, I could tell that she was losing patience. But what could I say? "It's because your feet are gigantic?" No.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and she shoved away from me, then backhanded my right shoulder and said, "Stop stepping on my feet, dammit!"

The backhand didn't hurt so much as it was surprising. She said, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

I said, "Not really, no."

She seemed genuinely upset that she hadn't managed to hurt me and said, "I'm going to the bathroom."

She never returned. I danced with several other people that night and had no further problems.