She didn't want to dance. She didn't go to nightclubs very often, and the hip hop R&B reggae the band here was playing was definitely not her thing. It looked as though we were going to spend the entire evening sitting awkwardly on a sofa. But her friends finally managed to coax her, convince her, drag her by the arms onto the dance floor and get her moving.
At first, she was predictably stiff, uncomfortable, self-conscious. She loosened up as the evening went on, and with each song, the movements of her arms and feet reflected more and more the energy of the music. Never her hips, though. Her hips just couldn't get into it.
Finally, the band opted to slow things down with a rendition of "Turn Your Lights Down Low." I opted to reach for her for a slow dance. But she wasn't there. She was off to the bathroom. Or to call her boyfriend. Rather than stand alone in the middle of the dance floor, I went for another drink.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kK8CwubWzQ&feature=fvsr
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