The Land That Disco Forgot

Wasn't sure I was up to going out after work ... but Donna called and I decided I was. David Johnson of the Neville Brothers was playing at CinCin and he is awesome. Wine is $8/glass for a good Riesling ... and yeah, sometimes I deserve to spoil myself a little.

Sally called too. Every time I see her I hope she'll be less of an attention hound. Her husband has been deceased for about a year and she has wasted no time dating any man who asks. I'm not sure why it bugs me so much. I guess it's so in your face ... bragging about two or three dates a day, dressing like a 30s pinup, constantly checking her phone for the possibility of a missed message and wanting to leave any place where nobody hits on her within 15 minutes.

One of the guys she dates looks like a cadaver ... but he's rich.

There have been a few times when I wondered why I don't get the same amount of attention ... but then I'm putting out weird vibes. I know it. My aura has barbed wire and gun turrets - I am terrified of involvement. Sally is in heat and the dogs line up.

She showed up after CinCin was jammed. Donna and I were sitting on a love seat near David Johnson. Rather than stand, Sally sat on my arm on the love seat. No, she didn't really sit - she posed. She was elevated and highly visible to the guys at the bar. She stretched her legs out elegantly and didn't care that she was crowding me.

When a seat across from us became available, I suggested she sit there. She said "no, I'm comfortable where I am." I said we had a fourth friend showing up, if she would sit there, she would save it for her. Only then did she move.

An attractive man asked her to dance one time. Later he came back and asked me to dance. He asked my name, he looked at my left hand and asked if I was married. He was surprised I wasn't. Something about the way he said it ... I was flattered. We talked a bit. He seemed ok.

After I danced with him, Sally was suddenly interested. She followed him out of the building for fresh air. They were out there a long time.

Donna noticed.

I always wonder if I'm exaggerating circumstances. I don't think so. I once told Sally I never wanted to date anyone she had "gone out with" and she said "well, you won't have any dates because there won't be any left." She threw it out like a challenge. You'd think she was 16 not 60.
There is something so ugly about this time of life. Maybe it's the desperation factor. Donna kept saying "look how hard everyone tries."

I thought of my fancy friend who is leaving her wonderful husband because she "doesn't love him any more." Wait until she finds out what it's like to be single at this age.

An older gentleman who was built exactly like my Great Aunt Lily kept staring at me. My Aunt Lily had a tiny head and a poofy body, sort of like the shrunken head guy in Beetlegeuse. (SP?) And she was exactly that unattractive.

Donna and I kept whispering during the slow songs to help prevent unwanted advances ... but this old guy managed to lock eyes like a hungry dog under a dinner table. He was old enough to be my father.

It was hot and loud, I signaled that I wasn't in the mood to dance. Which was shitty because I had danced nearly every third dance with Donna. (During those times Sally had "lain across" the whole of the loveseat with long legs elegantly extended in white Bealls Outlet clearance rack capris pants in order to "save" it for us.)

I immediately felt like shit for blowing the guy off. There was a younger black woman to my right and I looked her in the eyes and said "I know - I'm going to hell." She replied "it took him hours to build up the courage to ask you to dance."

Holy f... I never think of myself in those terms. I think of myself as adequate at best, not some potential heartbreaker. I said "but he looks like my Aunt Lily" and she laughed hard.

I went and asked him to dance. Then I couldn't get rid of him. It was pretty awful. During the slow dances he kept staring at me and I deliberately looked the other way. I could not look him in the eyes.

Yeah, I deserve to have been so uncomfortable. But then came a point when it would have been mean to let him think I had any interest in him. One day someone his own age will.

The crowd was interesting, Donna sat there mesmerized. In our late 50s, we were age appropriate for the disco Dave was singing. Those were our times, when we were young and vital. However, there were also people our parents' age in attendance. Sometimes it was utterly charming and at others disturbing.

One woman reminded me of my Grandmother, who died last year at 96. Something about the way she held her fingers while dancing reminded me of Gram's mannerisms when she was being flirtatious in the dementia ward.

If you could harness the financial force of all the plastic surgeries in that room, you could live the rest of your life in incomparable luxury. Some people had been lifted, sucked and tucked to the point of being skeletal.

Donna said she will never do that, but you wonder. If you had the money - wouldn't you? I'm sure they see themselves as they hope they look. We will probably do the same. Maybe we do that now.

One handsome middle-aged guy had rented two skanks for the night. His arrogance was unsettling. He was taking pictures of them dancing together in mega-cheap dresses and shoes; he danced between them at one point.

One of the skanks had bandaids on her arm and back. You have to wonder what that's all about. How many condoms makes you safe with that?

You especially have to wonder what he was so proud of ... being able to afford to have women demean themselves on his account? Doesn't that say "I don't have the necessary character to have someone be interested in me for who I am."

Ten years ago I would have laughed. Now I think it's disgusting. Maybe because each of those skanks were once some Grandmother's granddaughter. It hits too close to home.

Maybe I'm appalled because I was demeaned in my last relationship. That will never happen again.

Kept watching a gorgeous hunk of a guy ... maybe 45 years old, about 6'2". I thought I saw him watching me. Then he came over and asked why someone as beautiful as me wasn't dancing. He said he wanted to dance with me before I left. Then he said "you don't remember me, do you!" And I didn't.

Then I did ... Leaping Lizards, end of the bar, about nine months ago? I remember thinking at the time "why am I putting up with shit when there are hunks like this floating around!"

I joked that he was much taller than I remembered. Also more handsome, but I didn't say that. I did say he looked wonderful.

He asked if I was still with my boyfriend. I said no.

He said "you're available then?" I said yeah. Basic clothes over his strong frame had an elegance. He is way too hot, way out of my league.

It sounded like he still has my business card.

After paying my bill, I made friends with the woman who had been so honest about the guy who looked like Aunt Lily. There was an immediate bond there; and it would be really cool if she could teach me some of her moves. I said "I'm Micki like Mouse" - she said "I'm Shirley like Temple". Her friend said "I'm Mary" and I said "like the virgin".

They were still laughing when I left.