Dancing with myself

It always astounds me that there are people in this world willing to go out dancing alone. Sure, as a professional who travels, I've forced myself to get a table for one at restaurants. I'll sit in a coffee shop alone and drink a latte. I'll even see a movie by myself. I don't normally feel the need to have others to keep me company in my activities.

But who are these people who boogie by themselves?

Oh sure, society encourages us to dance like no one is watching, but seldom do any of us actually do that. We dance like everyone's watching, and we only dance with the safety of our friends in tandem. Perhaps we need the camaraderie of awkward hip shakes. Or maybe we take comfort in knowing someone else knows the lyrics about apple bottom jeans and boots with the fur.

I guess alcohol is the ultimate weapon for letting down the guard, but I saw so many people this weekend who needed to have theirs lifted back up.

Like the chick at the piano bar in Austin, who valiantly tried to get others to dance with her for several hours. No one did. Not even her embarrassed husband. Or the other husband she tried to dance with, before his wife drug him away. Seriously, when the whole place is making fun of you, don't you give up?

Or the poor guy playing shuffleboard on Saturday, whose wife just left him after 15 years. How do I know that? He told Lonnie, me, Jen, Jen's classmates, the server, some chick walking by, and the one-man band (can't remember his name, but he has a page on MySpace, so I just called him "MySpace" for the rest of the night) who played the obscure country songs. Lonnie has his card. Perhaps they can hang out again soon.

Or the guy wearing the fancy white Hanes t-shirt late Saturday night, who danced to a beat no one else heard, all the while holding a cigarette in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. Song after song after song. After Jen and I openly mocked him.

I suppose you have to give props to someone with that much self-esteem. Or maybe just lack of self-awareness.

Nonetheless, here's to you, solitary dancer. Rock on.