Apart from the occasional psychotic break, I'm usually a bashful sorta fellow. Seriously, nothing I'm more afraid of than the all-too-public glare of fierce spotlights. Even now the thought of public speaking gets me a little weak in the knees - though I've tried hard to conquer that particular fear.
Damn. Do they really expect me to dance?
An innate trait? A conservative upbringing? A traumatic event in childhood? Who knows where such diffidence springs from but I've always shied away from the public glare.
A troubled insecurity most of the dancers on the floor don't seem to share! Latin Night here seems to draw out the wild revellers from every nook and cranny in the city; with each and every one seemingly eager to dance the night away. From the way some were shaking and jiggling their hips ( and other wobbly bits ) to the salsa music, I doubt even an entire broadcasting crew streaming live would have stopped them. Nothing like the free flow of alcohol to help boost their confidence.
Unfortunately downing an entire row of jello shots didn't seem to help me at all.
Damn. I was jealous.
As it was, I stood watching from the sidelines nursing my glass of wine.
Paul : Wish I could just get out there and dance.
My ISO : Go ahead.
Paul : It's not dark enough! Someone might see me.
My ISO : So what? Getting self-conscious in your dotage?
Paul : Probably yeah. What if I slip and fall?
My ISO : Wouldn't be the first time.
Paul : Gosh I am uptight!
My ISO : You are. Drink more.
Somehow I think I'd need to drown in a sea of tequila shots just to get that free and disinhibited.