May I have this dance?
January 30, 2009
I remember it like it was yesterday. I saw you from afar, and I knew at that moment we we’re destined to run into each other. As I looked at you, you pretended not to notice, but you saw me too. As we slowly made our way toward each other, you seemed drawn to me, like you couldn’t avoid me if you tried. Even though there was a crowd of people all around us, it was like we were the only ones there. We made our way closer. I started getting nervous. I could tell you were nervous too. The time had almost come. I had to make a move…
We came face to face. I tried moving left, but you tried going right. I tried moving right, then you tried going left. It should not be this difficult to walk by someone. We are walking in opposite directions, so we should be able to avoid each other with ease. Again, I moved left and you moved right. I chuckled to myself, but it was loud enough for you to hear. You looked at me angrily and embarrassed, like I was the only one involved in this dance. It takes two to tango, and at that moment we might has well have been in a ballroom. Growing tired of this dance, I decided to bow out. I waved my arm motioning you to move to the right of me. You saw your chance to escape, and hurriedly walked around me, giving off a small glare that I knew was meant for me but was aimed toward the sidewalk. Apparently you are too proud to admit to yourself that, you too, were also a part of this subtle, awkward encounter. Can we not both share in the laughter of the absurdness of the situation? Mystified by your anger, I shook my head and continued my trek to work.
