I don't dance.
I cringe inwardly when people ask me if I dance.
For one, it's awkward. For two, I cannot even picture myself cavorting on the dance floor, as if I do not have a care in the world. It makes me blush merely thinking about it.
But of course today I was asked that cringe worthy question by none other than the individual who inspired me to start this blog (see my first ever entry: "How to Dissaude a Pursuer")
For the last few months, I've been bumping into this guy repeatedly when I've gone to the library to study. It's still pretty awkward when I see him, I'll be honest. But I overcompensate for awkward moments by talking non stop. Maybe it'd work better if I just sat there. In silence.
His dog has cancer though, so he comes in to the vet clinic a lot to get her pain medication. And I talk about (what else) Biology and how nicely the semester is progressing.
But then....then he asks:
"Do you ever go dancing?"
Maybe he saw my inner cringing. Or my face turning red. Or maybe I made a face. In any event, I explained that no, I do not dance. It's been long suggested to me that I need to get out there and do it, but try as I might, stepping that far out of my comfort zone is, in a word, IMPOSSIBLE.
Perhaps at this points he suspects that I am suspecting that he is asking me out, so he restates himself and says:
"We could go dancing in Boulder. As friends of course"
Why of course! Friends!
I feel that if you have to include the term "just friends" as part of your speech, then the opposite is true.
I'm just not the dancing type.