Normally I Wouldn't

It was the dead of winter in New York City and we were blessed with a 50 degree night. So it was wonderfully ironic that Simon had invited Lauren and I to one of his shows. We emerged from our den in Brooklyn and headed to the city to take advantage of this gift. The breeze by the East river was crisp, but we were happy enough that we only had to wear one extra layer of clothing. We stopped off to drink hot chocolate, catching up on lost time and debriefing on the upcoming activities. After a few hours of standing around and chatting, watching Simon do his thing on the dance floor, we decided to leave and head out to a club. There, we met with Chris, an old colleague, and smoozed before he let us in. We headed straight to the bar for margaritas, and the music was bumping! We advanced onto the non-dance floor and got it started, dancing the night away until I am approached by you. I have a new dance partner. Automatically, we vibe and enjoy every hip rock and back thrust. You make comments on my choice of dance songs and I refute. “You are so cute,” I think to myself. I tell my friend. You are less aggressive than I would have hoped as you didn’t ask for my number, which I guess worked out for the best. I’m about to leave. “That’s it,” you ask, and make appoint to get an alternative connection going. I get your full name, and I am sure to remember it until I get home. I request, you accept. I’m interested, I can’t lie to myself.