Tonight I was a part of the cheese and went line-dancing. A co-worker of mine practically lives at this country bar in San Diego where all of the wannabe cowboys and real military men in town hang out. She's a part of the dance team and tonight was the group's performance. I've been meaning to try out the place for awhile and it's rather, well, well it's just a nice thing to support people.
Her show's been among the gossip at work. Everyone thinks she's a tad cheesy and slightly annoying but with a heart of gold. I've been doing a lot of pre-damage control of the possible jokes about her (she used to get picked on more often and mocked) by being sincerely proud of her and making everyone remember what it was like back in the day with dance classes and other things. Wistful, not cruel. And for a minute there two other co-workers were going to join me.
I slipped into a cute navy/white striped dress with black flats and made a point to be adorable (and do more pre-damage control) when I asked my co-workers before I left, "Look I'm cute!" in which they teased and laugh. Last time I looked cute and simply was they talked mad shit behind my back because I'm skinny and get hit on the most at work and got all uppity about it. Girls are fucking weird.
I got there just in time for her show, and yes it was cheesy, but it was fun too. It was to "Footloose" with tons of coordinated clapping and big show smiles, but a real sincerely that the group was having a good time and loved their cowboy boots and shiny shirts (girls) and flannel (guys).
I was miffed though not surprised that my other co-workers didn't show up, and I grew increasingly annoyed that my boyfriend was not answering his phone or responding to his text. I had told him it would probably be a girls thing but he asked for me to call when I got off work, which I did, and invited him. I even offered to pay the cover if that was the problem. No response.
My co-worker finished her dance and was sweaty, cheerful, and in need of a drink. I thought it was tad silly she was so nervous over something like line-dancing, but that's me just being an asshole. I took dance lessons for 7 years and definitely remember having anxiety attacks (literally) before the shows.
Anyway, I was really proud of her and was thoroughly enjoying myself. It's definitely its own niche. Cowboys in a beach town, and the kind of crowd that has cowgirls all in pretty boots, military guys looking proud, bacholorettte party girls with cupcakes and little stress, dough-faced boys with charming confidence, those seasoned older women and men who have a home in this club too. The lights aren't dimmed too much, and not a lot of people are drinking things besides water and bottles of cheap beer. There's a genuineness there, and everyone is up for dancing those cheesy dances, because cheesy dances are a blast, and it feels amazing for a whole bar to move around and laugh together at their errors and, what was that word everyone said, embellishments?
My co-worker taught me some line dancing which I picked up quickly and had a ball, and her friends taught me the two-step which I was awful at, haha. I went around the dance floor a few times and laughed the whole time in glee when I'd get it right (or didn't).
And I liked it there. I liked seeing her happy. I liked the vibe of familiarity of the place. I like how everyone felt like themselves there and no creepers in sight or overly prissy girls who just sit there like normal bars.
I should have stayed longer. I really should have. True fun always happens the longer you linger--or at least a good story to tell the next day.
Rule ##: Stay an hour later than you feel comfortable with.
But I left at 9pm anyway. My co-worker and her one girl friend were drifting away to dance, and the guys at the table were beginning to get a little too attentive to me. If my co-workers had come I would have stayed longer. If my boyfriend had showed up I would have stayed longer. He really is a Mr. Big sometimes in being such an anti-social ass but charming one-on-one. And if they has showed up or he had showed up I would have gotten my White Russian I've been craving these past two weeks.
But I'm glad I was there for the time I was there. It was a real good time to see her perform and that look on her face of being so...grateful her friends showed up and loved her and supported her was worth it. Plus line-dancing, while a little silly, really is a damn good time and much better than a real club wearing stilettos you can't dance in, surrounded by people who don't know each other, and filled with guy who just want to bang you and leave you. Much better than that.
And I feel a little like a loser on a Saturday night by myself eating M&Ms about to go to bed before midnight because of work at 7am tomorrow, and still no word from the boyfriend. I'm really not sure if I should be pissed or worried. Or the usual both. (sigh)
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