Last night we took a friend of ours out to wish him well because he's moving to Singapore. He requested a "relaxing evening" so naturally we spent the night club hopping, destroying ourselves with alcohol then attempting to repair the 6 hours of damage by inhaling cheap chicken sandwiches before eventually crawling home.
It's all one guy's fault who bought us tequila and tabasco shots ("TT's" if you will). I must admit it was a genius move to have the tabasco sauce in the bottom of the glass. Replaced one stinging sensation with another.
From that point forward the night went into overdrive. We found out today that we were "that group of people bouncing up and down" at this bar Tivo. I was in my dance zone and therefore oblivious to how obnoxious we must have been to everyone else. That's the beauty (and purpose) of guzzling so much alcohol I suppose. If I don't SEE the horrified looks on people's faces then they don't exist.
After Tivo we went to a dance club called Drop which is normally tough to get into but we had a chick with us who's a DJ so we were deemed worthy enough (just barely judging by the look on the reluctant doorgirl's face) and granted entrance.
Wanting to make the most of my temporary admittance into the cool people's party I whipped out some of my best dance moves and even created some new ones. Hour after hour I remained committed to finessing the Art of the Club Dance despite the fact that my stubborn 80-year old knees were putting up a fight the entire time. Once I get going NOTHING can stop my dancing! Not knee pain...not ripping a hole in my $400 dress...not a bouncer turning on the lights, grabbing my arm and saying, "Seriously sweetie...it's time to go." Nothing.
The reason I'm SO dedicated to my craft is that after a few drinks my ego convinces me that I am a So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance-worthy dancer. And I would never want to disappoint my fans so I make sure the show goes alllll night loooooong.
At 3pm today I was finally able to roll my poisoned body the 10 feet from my bed to my couch so I could begin piecing together the blur of events that was the night before. To begin my investigation I read an email from the DJ chick who was with us and she said,
"Stacey - you have the funniest dance moves. Good stuff!"
.....................WhatchootalkinboutWillis?
I'm not a FUNNY dancer!!! I'm a cooooooool dancer!!!
So today I was quickly fed a piece humble crumble pie as my hangover meal (it had a little too much cinnamon and reality but otherwise tasted good).
Well, WHATEVER type of dancer I am I think it's necessary for the soul to dance as much as possible in life. No matter what you look like. It makes you feel good! So get off the couch, play a song that inspires you and shake that ass!
It's all one guy's fault who bought us tequila and tabasco shots ("TT's" if you will). I must admit it was a genius move to have the tabasco sauce in the bottom of the glass. Replaced one stinging sensation with another.
From that point forward the night went into overdrive. We found out today that we were "that group of people bouncing up and down" at this bar Tivo. I was in my dance zone and therefore oblivious to how obnoxious we must have been to everyone else. That's the beauty (and purpose) of guzzling so much alcohol I suppose. If I don't SEE the horrified looks on people's faces then they don't exist.
After Tivo we went to a dance club called Drop which is normally tough to get into but we had a chick with us who's a DJ so we were deemed worthy enough (just barely judging by the look on the reluctant doorgirl's face) and granted entrance.
Wanting to make the most of my temporary admittance into the cool people's party I whipped out some of my best dance moves and even created some new ones. Hour after hour I remained committed to finessing the Art of the Club Dance despite the fact that my stubborn 80-year old knees were putting up a fight the entire time. Once I get going NOTHING can stop my dancing! Not knee pain...not ripping a hole in my $400 dress...not a bouncer turning on the lights, grabbing my arm and saying, "Seriously sweetie...it's time to go." Nothing.
The reason I'm SO dedicated to my craft is that after a few drinks my ego convinces me that I am a So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance-worthy dancer. And I would never want to disappoint my fans so I make sure the show goes alllll night loooooong.
At 3pm today I was finally able to roll my poisoned body the 10 feet from my bed to my couch so I could begin piecing together the blur of events that was the night before. To begin my investigation I read an email from the DJ chick who was with us and she said,
"Stacey - you have the funniest dance moves. Good stuff!"
.....................WhatchootalkinboutWillis?
I'm not a FUNNY dancer!!! I'm a cooooooool dancer!!!
So today I was quickly fed a piece humble crumble pie as my hangover meal (it had a little too much cinnamon and reality but otherwise tasted good).
Well, WHATEVER type of dancer I am I think it's necessary for the soul to dance as much as possible in life. No matter what you look like. It makes you feel good! So get off the couch, play a song that inspires you and shake that ass!
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