First Time Country Dancing.

One of the best ways to fight November Funk is to get out and try something new. If it’s not routine, it absorbs your interest, and you’re not thinking about the slow drip of November minutes dragging by. When you’re involved in something new, time goes faster.

In the interests of celebrating Sandii’s birthday (she is an Alberta girl and therefore does not recoil from Country music), a bunch of us went out to Boone County Cabaret, out there in Coquitlam, to mingle with cowboys and cowgirls. We took public transit, which landed us at Braid Station, and we walked some kind of dark highway til we got onto Brunette Avenue, and approached the bar.

We got tables close to the dance floor, ordered some beers, and watched for a while. Early on in the evening, all the really good dancers do their thing, when the music is not so loud and the floor is clear of drunkard shows of slutty bravado. There were some really good two-steppers there! I was trying hard to figure out the basic step, but these couples were throwing in turns and twists and spins, so that I never got a good look at the basic step. They were actually beautiful to watch. Frankie and I took some pictures, and I hope Frankie’s turned out better than mine.

Anyway, the bar started to fill up. There was another birthday party, for a 60-year-old, and a stag/stagette combo. There were girls with The Claw bangs (THAT’S where they all went!) There were guys with pitchers of beer, roaming the bar looking for action. There were cowboy hats and boots aplenty. There were housewives in spangly spandex tops. There were button-down shirts. I guess what I’m saying is that there was a lot of variation in the house.

When one of the line dances started up (which they seemed to do spontaneously. I mean, I’d blink and then there would be a dozen people in rows), I joined in with alacrity, if not skill. Okay, I love dancing. And the other people seemed to be good-natured enough not to mock me for my mistakes, so I had a lot of fun with that. I was only out of step about 70% of the time, anyhow.

Then a nice bald man in a buttoned-down shirt asked me to dance. I had to confess that I didn’t know how to two-step. So he kindly taught me. Hey, that is some fun! It may just have been the beer, but I think I did all right. He even asked me to dance again (Good thing this is not Regency England, or I would be engaged to the nice bald man with a button-down shirt!) so I guess I wasn’t a total Two-step train wreck.

Today, I sort of feel like I had a little holiday. Getting out of the Safety Zone works wonders. I am definitely going to try line dancing again, and I’d like to two-step as well. Maybe even do a spin!

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