The Dance Walk

I spent five hours in the pub the other day, on my own, drinking and reading from ‘feminism and psychology’. I actually really enjoyed it. Walking home (still light), listening to The Chemical Brothers Exit Planet Dust, I really got into the music, and started ‘dance-walking’. Picture me walking in-time, jostling my body and arms the way that English people do when dancing. I got more and more into it, and found myself full-blown going for it along the path. I was so absorbed in dance I failed to notice another walker. Hmmm. When he was too close for me not to see him, ensuing awkward English ‘what on earth do I do now?’ began, mentally rehearsing possibilities.

- keep dancing, of course

So I did, laughing internally at his awkward internal English ‘what on earth do I do about this head-case?’

Smile and wave, of course.