Village Dances

For all of you who know me, my favorite activity has to be dancing. Finding myself going to a dance was a bit concerning. Like everything else it is with whom you do something, not always what you are doing. There are many things to appreciate if I would just open my eyes.

I do try to stop and smell the roses. I really like to, however it is tough sometimes to look up from my daily routine. I did not expect for an instant when I got off of the train the night before that I would borrow a suit from her father. Yet there I was, standing in her parent’s bedroom trying on her father’s Sunday best.

Let me back up for a minute. Sometimes, I know that I have my “funky” moods and never seem happy. Everyone has them, but I think that they are just the way. I like to be a happy guy. Better things come to an optimist who realizes half-full is as good as it is going to get. I would probably drink the half I refilled on the way back from the fridge anyway.

Some time after lunch Verča told me that I needed to see how cool life really was. She wanted me to be happy with her and her friends. I think that she had seen me in one of those moods once too many. After all of this time in Czech, I still am not prepared for the traditional chain–smoking band of friends.

Then as soon as they came the boys from the group left. What a spectacular turn of events, I was left with three beautiful Czech women getting ready for the dance. Not in my wildest pubescent dreams, was this kind of thing possible. Maybe I had dreams with one, but never three. They were all dressed to kill. Tonight redefined the concept of little black dress. Yes, I know Domi was wearing white, but do not tell anyone.     

It is nice to be trusted to see the most intimate beauty secrets revealed. It seemed appreciated that I knew how to fix a run in stockings. An honest, but supportive opinion of control top pantyhose received more than one smile. Most of the time, I helped Verča. Not that I thought that Verča needed any help, she is already one of the most beautiful women that I have ever seen. She is a natural beauty. She was smiling and that made her more beautiful than I could imagine. She often fidgets with her make-up. Verča has a way of saying everything is ok, when she lets me help with the body glitter and fun places to put rouge.

There is something in her eyes that makes her shine. Watching them wiggle and slither into and out of several outfits certainly was having an effect on my small brain. Possibly, it was all of the wine her dad kept pouring into me. Maybe it is the payment for waiting for them to settle on what they would actually wear. If I had to wait for this every day every time we went out, it would drive me crazy. Sometimes, I really am glad that I am a guy. All of this is unnecessary, but it is wonderful to watch sometimes. There is a certain rhythm to it, but those are just the Czech asses talking.

Sooner or later, it was my turn. I had to get ready for the dance. I was quickly ushered into mom’s room to borrow some of Dad’s clothes. My rapid fitting was watched carefully, probably with the same interest I had shown earlier, but in return. I felt like Vaclav Havel must have the night before his inauguration. Several cult recollections say that he wore a borrowed coat and tie, and his wife a borrowed blouse. When I was properly fitted and both mom and Verča were satisfied, I was released back to peddle my papers somewhere else. After all of the attention, I carefully checked for ear tags and radio collars. None of it seemed so different than the same comedy playing out thousands of times in small towns all over the world.