Dance in a Supermarket

NB: The completed twittertale “And then I woke up” is in its own post directly below this one.

Some weeks ago, W suggested I should go and dance in a supermarket.

I gathered a bunch of friends (all of whom have an interest in ballroom dancing) and a bunch of hats (from W himself – yes, all of them) and convinced them that we should all go dancing together. Everyone got dressed for the night-time walk to the shops, then donned our chosen hats and opened the front door.

Rain.

High-quality hats and rain don’t mix, so the fate of the evening looked grim. One person went home, leaving us with a broken couple.

The rest of us clutched our precious hats to our chests and ran through the rain laughing in a manic fashion and quoting “Girl Genius” (“. . . and if you lose your hat, it is a BAD PLAN.”)

We crammed into two rain-soaked cars, drove to the shopping centre feeling like Amazon explorers, and performed another mad dash across a supermarket carpark. And then we were inside, and hatted, and there was no music! We wandered shiftily until we found the best spot, the music came on, and W bravely began to dance. (He’s the good-looking dark-bearded twenty-something one. . . in the middle.) Observe the terror on my face:

But I found my courage eventually:

During the course of this video, I swung wildly between delight and embarassment (wouldn’t you?)

When we’d danced enough, we exited the store – with our groceries, of course.

The night swung from possibility to despair to adventure to silliness and ultimately triumph. With bananas.

Tomorrow: S#59: Formerly Known As. . . (there shall be nicknames for everyone in the video).

I’m also currently working on a suggestion Ben made – and I quote –

Make a gun(s) that fires Marshmallows at high speed (could be
easily done several ways…)