Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Are you dancing?

file under: embarrassing social situations

One morning last week, when I arrived at work, one of the women was outside the building smoking a cigarette. A loud motorbike, earplugs, and crash helmet meant that I couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was gesticulating wildly above her head. It looked like she was telling a story about being a rugby referee and emphatically awarding a try, or bringing a jetliner up to its stand, or being a victorious Mexican desperado and firing a brace of revolvers into the air, or being taken hostage at gunpoint, or maybe that time she climbed into the exoskeleton loader to fight the alien queen.

I sarcastically asked her if she was showing off her dance moves. She laughed and smiled.

I wear a heavy leather jacket with very tight cuffs. I have discovered that the easiest way to take it off is to vigorously waggle my arms until the cuffs slide over my hands. I probably look a little bit like a penguin would if it had got something sticky and distasteful on its flippers.

It was at exactly this moment that the woman walked past. She said "nice moves" and clearly didn't mean it.

Richard "Got the moves like Pingu" B

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