Work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
And dance like no one's watching.
Dance like no one’s watching.
Back in my college days, I didn’t think I was busy enough so I joined the Student Activity Association. One of the events I helped plan included a homecoming dance. Homecoming didn’t consist of just one dance venue. Friday and Saturday each had several locations students could attend. One of the perks of helping the committee included tickets to any venue. My friend, Jorj, and I each received a pair. We decided to go to one location on Friday using my set and another location on Saturday using his tickets.
I dressed to the nines on Friday. I wore a purple dress that flowed when I twirled. I spun so much that the strap shoes I’d worn began to cut my feet. I told Jorj that I was dressing down for the dance the following night. I didn’t need more blisters. Saturday I wore a classic black skirt, a loosely knitted pale blue top, and flip flops.
The venue we chose for Saturday was a two story museum converted into a dance hall. The top floor was decorated in crazy colors and lit with a black light. The room was reserved for upbeat music and the latest Top 20. The ground floor - the subdued floor - played slower, more romantic songs and invited couples to linger longer in the dim light.
Jorj and I were casual friends and the ground level bored us so we ventured upstairs to dance to faster tempos. I found a spot and we began to boogie.
Let me explain one fact: While I enjoy dancing, I’m not great at it. My sisters always mocked my dancing style when I was younger but nothing they said ever stopped me from trying.
This being said, I wasn't surprised to see some of the dancers in the room looking my direction. I know I look funny when I dance but must they really stare at me? I let Jorj know we were being watched. I suggested we try some dance moves since we had an audience. Now they are smiling. Why don’t they stop looking at us? Rude!
"Look Charlotte, we are glowing."
"I know. It's because of the black light."
Duh Jorj. Have you never stood near a black light before?!
"We are white."
"Yes. Your shirt is and I'm sure my teeth are glowing."
What a silly conversation. And why are those other people still looking at us. My dancing is funny but I don't appreciate their giggles.
"You are glowing too."
"Well, not as much as you. I'm not wearing anything white. Oh, but my nails are white!"
Jorj, change the subject already!
"You are glowing Charlotte."
What is he getting at?!
"Jorj, I'm wearing black and bluu..."
I glanced down and froze. Black light. White bra. Loosely knitted top.
Yes, I was glowing. The stares from the other dancers suddenly made sense. I clutched the small amount of dignity I still had and ran from the room.
"JORJ! My bra is glowing! Why didn't you say something?!"
"I was trying. It's not your average conversation. I didn't know what to say."
"You say, "YOUR BRA IS GLOWING!"
"Okay, then. Charlotte, your bra was glowing."
"Thaaanks. And I'm going to need your jacket the rest of the evening."
Blistered feet and a glowing bra ~ I hope to never have a more memorable homecoming.