Dance Dance Revolution

So I suppose I should talk about my weekend.

Bo and I headed out around 8pm. He's recently off the mission so we talked a bit about the mish. I reminiced about my mission president final interview and the advice he gave me. To my utter shock it flew out of my mouth word for word. I had no idea I'd burned it that deep into my memory. Or maybe the fact that I attach with that memory, the story of another final interview of a fellow missionary. The pres. told him not to marry a bitch. Sound advice I'd say, and that's straight from the Lord's servant. In my interview he warned against the struggles of marrying a sickly woman. Also he laid out five principles to live by, well more like five things to always have going on in your life to stay happy. 1)Read the scriptures daily, 2)Pray daily, 3)Pay your tithing, 4)Always have a calling, 5)Attend the temple regularly. More sound advice from a servant of the Lord.

So Bo and I recalled various companions and the familiar but different questions people often put to missionaries. I asked him if he'd experienced any postmission depression. He said he'd been symptom free and happy to be where he is. That's good news. I had a terrible bout of the stuff. It really grinds you down and tests your faith. He did express some frustration, not unlike my own, about his social standing. Its hard to find a woman here. End of story. So he was aprehensive but optimistic about attending that evenings dance. I was somewhat less enthusiastic though I tried to amp up my feelings by listening to 80s music and some good old fashion latin dance music. It seemed to take my edge off.

We arrived at the dance without incident. As we pulled up to the parking structure a pleasant older gentleman directed me where to park my car. While I was thus engaged with him someone started to scream my name. I looked up and there was a familar face without a name. I stammered for a moment then just gave up. "I can't remember you name, I'm sorry." She was fine with it, I mean it had only been what....? nine years? Her name was Monica. We went to high school together and her brother once tried to start a fight with me outside my sophomore math class. He was dating a friend of mine at the time. She broke up with him shortly after the incident. I think I won the war but he won that battle.

So I told Monica to hold tight while I parked my ride. The dance itself was atop a new parking structure next to a used car lot. The lot was conviniently empty so we were directed to park there and even ushered into parking spots by guys wearing wireless radios attached to their heads. It gave the whole thing a feel of professionalism and planning. Highly unusual for any church function except maybe general conference. We caught the elevator at the bottom but had to get off on the second floor to pay and get our hands stamped. We trudged up the four floors to the top all by our lonesome.

At the top there dance was in full swing, well mostly. There were scattered circles of dancers and a lot of kids by the refreshments. Which were great. Lots of fruit, and other good for you stuff. And somewhere around 100 pallets of water in those little tiny bottles. The DJ seemed to have a good hold on what mormon youth like to dance too. The occasional eighties hit, lots of hiphop and the rare slow dance. We toured the facilites then alighted near the watermellon and chocolate chip cookies. That's when Jenny, the girl I hooked up with, spotted us and made a B-line, date in tow. Poor guy, upstaged by a recently returned missionary and a very handsome, buff youngman, with starteling blue eyes and a confident demeanor. We did our quick hugs hello and intro's and proceeded to the dance floor. This is where things get ugly.

Honestly I was proud of myself for dancing after about 8 or 10 minutes of watching. It's got to be a record for me. Bo however, struggled. But after a bit he got into it and dang that kid can dance. Put me right down to shame. It was fun. I eventually met a young latin girl and we dance several dances together. She was into me and that was nice. Its nice to be wanted and know you're wanted. Eventually the police broke up the dance citing complaints from neighbors as the reason why. Which logically is impossible as we were 6 stories in the air next to a freeway. How anyone could hear us is a complete mystery to me.

Bo and I proceeded to In&Out down the street and got our late night grub on. It was as good as ever. We were joined by the latin girl and her friends. We stayed awhile, chatted for a bit and eventually Jenny came by and went to her place to soak in the hottub. I finally got to sleep around 330, my latest night in a year.