As the night goes on, reservations disappear, to be replaced with a surge of energy. Giddy, high on happiness. And yes, some alcohol to loosen up. Hidden in coat pockets, disguised in water bottles and juice. But hey, if it works for you.
Op-Ed: So You Think You Can Dance
This Op-Ed reflects the other side of the coin, a different look at the same event. This comes in contrast to this mornings “Op-Ed: Whose Event Is It Anyway?”
There’s a solid wall in front of me, blocking me from the wind, keeping me warm. Bodies pressed up against me, in front, back, and all sides. Squeezing my friend’s hand to make sure she is still there. Moving, swaying, tapping to the beat, because it’s catchy, infectious. Head bobbing up and down, lips singing along with the familiar tune.
As the night goes on, reservations disappear, to be replaced with a surge of energy. Giddy, high on happiness. And yes, some alcohol to loosen up. Hidden in coat pockets, disguised in water bottles and juice. But hey, if it works for you.