April 17, 2005
Just a dream...I was in the midst of a group of motorcycle junkies at a slightly upscale establishment that I had never been to before. Indeed, it was a bar and restaraunt, in another town and perhaps even another state, far, far away. I was sitting indian style on a bar stool with a drink in one hand and, gripping the edge of the bar with my free hand, swinging myself from left to right. I was rather content, but I wasn't even sure why I was there.
The place was dimly lit with candles placed strategically up and down the bar. Directly in front of me was an unoccupied wooden dance floor with a line of unoccupied tables to the right. It appeared as though that area was partitioned off for a specific group that had not yet arrived - perhaps for a birthday celebration.
Familiar faces surrounded me and I was greeted with hearty 'hellos' and even a generous hug or two. A whole myriad of motorcycle geeks were there and there was not a person I did not recognize until an unfamiliar voice filled the room to make an announcement.
"When I come around the room and hand you a piece of paper with your name on it, please gather at the tables in the center area next to the dance floor."
An older woman began making the rounds to various partrons located throughout the bar. Couples rose and removed themselves to the tables near the dance floor as they received this mysterious piece of paper. I watched on with curious interest and carefully sipped the drink that never seemed to empty.
Eventually, the woman paused in front of me and confirmed my name with a glowing smile. The look upon her face marked a bit of heightened interest which made me question the purpose of this little engagement. I took the piece of paper and cautiously eyed the tables where my cohorts were located. It was obvious, by now, that the occupants were mostly couples and I was the only single being called upon to join them.
Well, save for one other.
He was also sitting alone, nervously twisting a medium sized tumbler in his large hands and focusing intently upon the icecubes in the glass. I stood at his table and waited for a sign of recognition. When one was not granted, as he was still intimately engaged with the study of his drink, I cleared my throat and cheerfully inquired,
"Is this seat taken?"
His body immediately straightened and he was jolted back into reality with the words I had spoken. He looked at me and smiled, stating that the seat was not, in fact, taken and that I was quite welcome to it. I fumbled, for a moment, over what I was going to say next, but eventually rescued my forthright nature and asked him what all of this gaiety was about.
"Well," he said, "I wanted to suprise you."
"Me?!" I asked, most definitely suprised.
"Yeah, you deserve it."
I had no idea what he was talking about and just as I was going to beg him to elaborate, music filled the room. As though in queue, couples began to lift from their stoic positions and immediately take to the dance floor. I watched them, grabbing each other's hands, wrapping their arms around each other and float across the wooden area with happiness and ease.
It took him awhile, nearly half a song, to request my own hand. When finally the courage gripped him, he politely reached for the tips of my fingers which were resting on the table and with a singular motion, he led me out onto the floor. I really was not prepared for this...
I had never thought of him as the dancing type. I had never thought of him as a graceful figure nor as the type of person who could possibly throw all of this together. But when he gently placed one hand about my waist and we twirled and laughed and made comments to the other couples, I was overcome with the sensational realization that I absolutely did not care. All question was relinquished with the simplicity of the moment and we just danced.
A moment in time where friends gather and enjoy each other's company. A happy event without worry or wonder. And I realized, before waking, that I had not thought about Gorgeous for one second of that dreamy night...
I just danced.