He shrugs his broad shoulders and continues to dance, sipping at the beer he is holding in his large right hand. “You go!” He responds while tapping along to the beat with his mammoth sneaker-clad feet.
Leaning towards him I say rather flirtatiously and with a slight competitive edge coloring my voice, “I’ll go if I can take you on…” and I smirk while I jab him gently in the chest with my two index fingers.
“Phff!” Grinning, he then sneers and looks at me bluntly from head to foot. He cocks his head to the left, motions up and down with his hands to indicate his impressive height and then mimics carrying something over his shoulder. He leans his whole body towards me and declares, “I could take you with one arm.”
I smirk in response and challenge him loudly over the blaring music, “Dude, bring it!”
Before I can even react, he brazenly and deftly scoops me off of my feet and slings me over the shoulder he has just indicated a few seconds earlier; my torso hangs over his left shoulder and rests against his wide and muscular back as he spins me around and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, kicking my bent legs in protestation, my arms glued to my sides while my talon like nails carve and dig into his solid shoulders. Despite my trepidation, I cannot help but giggle breathlessly and a little nervously. After he has spun me around a few more times than what can be considered a comfortable number after having eaten at Milsa, he softly sets me back down on my dancing spot. I quickly glance towards Steph and Row, who are looking at me with mouths wide open.
So, who is this scruffy and delicious blond individual who literally swept me off my feet for a total of perhaps five minutes tops? Well, it seems like we met AGES ago back at the beginning of September when I lost four hours of my life at a chalet somewhere close to Quebec City... CRAZY weekend that was and one that I would repeat EVERY week if I could, albeit to the detriment of my liver and overall health. This younger man was actually one of the many highlights of this trip and we had shared some ridiculous moments belting out songs, dancing along to others, drinking, playing Foosball and then having intermittent conversations on the bus trip back to Montreal.
Hilariously enough, I had not recognized him at first when he approached me while I was dancing, entranced as I was in my own little world on the elevated platform near the DJ. My three companions were dancing off to my right on the rather empty dance floor, being a little too conservative to be on display shaking and moving above everyone else.
A few minutes soon after our arrival, the really good looking man in question, wearing a close-fitting red t-shirt and faded, scuffed, torn and tastefully tight jeans, had approached my sacred dancing space and had smiled at me - I, being the innocent and friendly gal that I am, had smiled back just as sweetly. The roguish man had then proceeded to comment, while looking at me and drawing circles next to his ear and pretending to drink a few too many beers, to my new male acquaintance, whom I had only met earlier that evening at Milsa. Intrigued, I kept looking at him, a little confused and wondering what was going on. I like a good game of charades, but when you are the subject of the imitation and apparent ridicule, it gets tiring pretty quickly. So, after this now seemingly rude and clearly drunk guy had spoken to my new pal and had pointed at me a few too many times while doing so, I looked at him pointedly and stopped dancing. At this point, he had come closer and his beer-infused breath had tickled my ear while he had asked in a loud enough manner to be heard over the music, "You don't remember me, do you?"
I had stepped back, pretended to study him for a few seconds and then had to shrug my shoulders with a smile when the answer to his question was an unfortunate no; my mind was drawing a blank and I was unable to distinguish him from the many people I have been lucky enough to have met since last September. He mumbled something as he shook his head and began to walk away, and the only word I was able to catch was "ASFA"... and then my memory suddenly awoke and desperately shot out images into my mind of who this man was.
I screamed out his name excitedly, jumped off my platform and grabbed his shoulders as he continued to walk away towards the bar. He turned around and smiled to which I replied by stretching my body as tall as it could humanly go while taking his gorgeous face in my hands and bringing it to mine so as to kiss both of his stubbly and slightly scratchy cheeks. I grinned at him as I let go of his face and then grabbed his arm to pull him back onto the dance floor with me.
Funny how life is: it throws you a cute curve ball every once in a while to show you that they really still DO exist!
So, who is this scruffy and delicious blond individual who literally swept me off my feet for a total of perhaps five minutes tops? Well, it seems like we met AGES ago back at the beginning of September when I lost four hours of my life at a chalet somewhere close to Quebec City... CRAZY weekend that was and one that I would repeat EVERY week if I could, albeit to the detriment of my liver and overall health. This younger man was actually one of the many highlights of this trip and we had shared some ridiculous moments belting out songs, dancing along to others, drinking, playing Foosball and then having intermittent conversations on the bus trip back to Montreal.
Hilariously enough, I had not recognized him at first when he approached me while I was dancing, entranced as I was in my own little world on the elevated platform near the DJ. My three companions were dancing off to my right on the rather empty dance floor, being a little too conservative to be on display shaking and moving above everyone else.
A few minutes soon after our arrival, the really good looking man in question, wearing a close-fitting red t-shirt and faded, scuffed, torn and tastefully tight jeans, had approached my sacred dancing space and had smiled at me - I, being the innocent and friendly gal that I am, had smiled back just as sweetly. The roguish man had then proceeded to comment, while looking at me and drawing circles next to his ear and pretending to drink a few too many beers, to my new male acquaintance, whom I had only met earlier that evening at Milsa. Intrigued, I kept looking at him, a little confused and wondering what was going on. I like a good game of charades, but when you are the subject of the imitation and apparent ridicule, it gets tiring pretty quickly. So, after this now seemingly rude and clearly drunk guy had spoken to my new pal and had pointed at me a few too many times while doing so, I looked at him pointedly and stopped dancing. At this point, he had come closer and his beer-infused breath had tickled my ear while he had asked in a loud enough manner to be heard over the music, "You don't remember me, do you?"
I had stepped back, pretended to study him for a few seconds and then had to shrug my shoulders with a smile when the answer to his question was an unfortunate no; my mind was drawing a blank and I was unable to distinguish him from the many people I have been lucky enough to have met since last September. He mumbled something as he shook his head and began to walk away, and the only word I was able to catch was "ASFA"... and then my memory suddenly awoke and desperately shot out images into my mind of who this man was.
I screamed out his name excitedly, jumped off my platform and grabbed his shoulders as he continued to walk away towards the bar. He turned around and smiled to which I replied by stretching my body as tall as it could humanly go while taking his gorgeous face in my hands and bringing it to mine so as to kiss both of his stubbly and slightly scratchy cheeks. I grinned at him as I let go of his face and then grabbed his arm to pull him back onto the dance floor with me.
Funny how life is: it throws you a cute curve ball every once in a while to show you that they really still DO exist!
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