I went there with an HW suburbia coworker and member. I'd decided that I was going to go in order to just dance my ass off and have fun. As much as I'm on the prowl, I wasn't particularly in a "scoping mood," so I went out donning big jeans and a red DKNY Ducati t-shirt. (heh- and my favorite shoes that Tara finally returned)
As I was jumping around, I discovered the downside of having long hair again. It gets so damn sweaty! Feh!
After about an hour of hopping around, Lisa, Kaye, and I decided to take a break. While we were standing off to the side this blond woman with a borderline mullet and at least 3 inches shorter than I comes up to me and says, "Would you like to dance?"
Now, it's easier to make an excuse to refuse a drink, but it's a lot harder to turn down a dance. Clearly from my hopping and bouncing of 5 minutes ago, I'm quite able-bodied and somewhat skilled. So saying that I didn't know how to dance or couldn't wasn't going to work.
And, as I thought about it, dancing with someone's not a big deal, as long as I don't give any kind of signals or hints that say "please paw at me."
Apparently this woman doesn't read body language very well. Dancing with her made a root canal look like fun. The more I subtley backed away, the more she threw herself at me.
"I like your hair," she said, stumbling forward to pet my hair with sweaty hands.
ew ew ew ew ewwwwwwwww!
I kept trying to back away. Finally Lisa came to my rescue and we danced more obviously with each other. About 15 minutes the woman got the hint and left.
As the night continued, I bounced around and had a great time.
Although there was a rather freakish occurence that I sincerely hope was my imagination. While I was dancing thoughout the evening, I'd periodically notice a tan, thin woman with long curly hair staring at me. At first I thought nothing of it. She was clearly with someone, maybe she was just looking around.
But a little while later I began to think otherwise. Here's why:
When I spoke with Tara last Sunday, she'd said, "Did you go out to Circuit Girl on Friday?"
"No," I said. "I was too tired and wanted to save my energy for Saturday night. Why?"
"Nancy said she thought she saw you there," she replied.
"No," I said. "Wasn't me."
Then I thought about it further and said, "Wait a minute. How would she have known who I was? I've never met her."
"Well, remember when you'd sent me all those pictures in the Fall?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said. "What'd you do, send them to her?"
"No," she said. "Um, she knew my password to my e-mail and was reading my mail throughout the Fall."
"Uhh," I said. "That's very *not* normal. Glad there's that nice bond of trust there." (sarcastic)
"I know, right?"
So, this woman kept glancing at me or just plain looking. At one point we made eye contact, but then I averted my eyes. I wanted nothing to do with unnecessary drama, especially with someone who's connected to someone I'm no longer seeing.
At about 12:50 ish, I was standing by one of the bars with Lisa, just resting. Then to my right I saw Curly Girl again.
I angled myself so that my back would be toward her and her companion. A few minutes later I felt someone tap my arm.
Turning around I found myself face-to-face with a cute slender Asian girl.
"Hi," she said. "Um, would you like to dance."
"Sure," I said, grinning.
We went out and danced for the next hour. And was it fun! We had great rythem together and flowed very nicely.
"I'm L.T.," she introduced herself about 5 minutes into dancing.
"My name's Liz," I said in response.
And so the night went. By the end of the night L.T. and exchanged numbers and I offered her a ride home. She's a 21 year-old junior at BU and had quite a long ways home. Kaye and Lisa came in a separate car and L.T. was on my way, so it was no problem.
After I dropped her off (no, no kissing involved. I avoid moving that quickly, although it's not to say I haven't done it in the past... heeheehee...), I headed on home and dropped in to bed. It was 3:00 a.m. and I have to get up at 7:00.
Around 7:00 I dragged my ass outta bed and decided to throw my nasty clothes in the washer before heading to work. I emptied my license, money, and gum out of the pockets. It wasn't until I pulled up in front of HW that it occurred to me that L.T.'s number was in the back pocket of my jeans, which have long since stopped churning in the washer.
It was a bar napkin no less, which means it's probably been shredded into a million little pieces. (Not to mention most likely stuck to all of my clothes and will have to be washed all over again)
Damn. Let's hope she calls and leaves her number.