Martin Tithonium (tithonium) wrote,
Martin Tithonium
tithonium

So, eighth grade. There's a dance at another school. I'm taking the publications class that puts out the school paper, and I'm assigned to cover the dance as photographer. It was uneventful and what you'd expect... boys on one side, girls on the other, complicated by segregation by school. Well, I'm wandering around, half-time enjoying the music, taking some pictures, probably commenting on how lame these people are, when I get tapped on the shoulder. There's a gaggle of girls behind me, in a circle around one that almost cowers. The one tapping me tells me the one in the center would like to dance.

Well, let me tell you: back then I was even less eloquent, even less charming, even less sure of myself with girls than I am now.

Caught your breath yet? Good. Don't laugh so hard, you'll hurt yourself.

I reacted like the proverbial iguana with the proverbial wine. I said 'uh, no', and hopefully added 'thank you'. And they went away. And I was much relieved.

These days, I would /hope/ that I'd have the presence of mind to say something like "I'm sorry, but I have a weird, almost phobic aversion to dancing, but thank you for the invitation".

Ah well. Hindsight.


http://www.martian.cx/Words/Life/Ramblings/blog.cgi?entry=351
Tags: dancing, girls, martian
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