Oh what a night

Whoever said that you peak in your mid 20s then it’s downhill all the way may be right. Eons ago when I was younger, I could stay up all night and still manage to function the following day--no problem. Nowadays I can’t even stay up watching prime time telly without feeling hung over the next day!
Last night was no different. I made an exception this year to attend the office Christmas party. I wore my old reliable LBD (little black dress) and killer Italian heels. God knows when I wore this outfit last! There I was teetering around in my heels and trust me I had to watch my every step.
It also didn’t help that I was surrounded by young, unwrinkled, slender bodied females. What is the point of all the preening? None whatsoever in my opinion. The men varied sharply between my middle aged colleagues—ho-hum or super young virile just-out-of-university bucks. I should be at least 15 years younger to enjoy this event, but alas I am not. However, that didn’t mean I didn’t notice some good looking specimen of the opposite sex but my natural reservation stopped me from making “chit chat”. Crikey, give the young people space to enjoy themselves. The last thing they want is an old crone like me acting “cool”—yeah I could see that happening—not!

I was quite surprised that the event went very well, more than expected judging from the fact that people looked like they were enjoying themselves. As the night wore on, people started to shed their inhibitions. After dinner I was all ready to make an early getaway (it was 9.30pm by then) when we were led to the “disco” room. The venue was a bit naff but the music was good and people started dancing. This was the moment I dreaded. I haven’t danced for ages and I mean ages. During my misspent youth my pals and I practised our Saturday Night Fever moves. Ah, I remember the swing and the salsa. Those were wonderful days of innocence.
A couple of days ago one of the bucks asked if we could dance during the party and I said I no longer do disco dancing—only slow drag. I immediately regretted my statement because I gave an indication of my preferred dance. At the party last night he mentioned dancing again and I felt a mild panic. Surely I am old enough to be his mother! What about my reputation as the strict head of administration? Get over it Norrie, it’s just a dance not an affair, I thought. Anyway, as if the DJ knew what was going on in my mind he changed the music from bop to slow drag. I quickly grabbed my overcoat and car keys and made my way across the room to say goodbye to young buck. I thought it was good manners to at least acknowledge the earlier dance request but things just didn’t happen that way. The next thing I knew we were in the middle of the dance floor doing the swing and as if in the movies other dancers parted to make way for us. Can you just imagine it???? There we were dancing like we practised every move. People clapped after our little performance. I was so thankful it was dark away from the dance floor because I swear I was red as a beetroot. After that little performance I was grabbed by another young buck and we did some tango and salsa moves as well but not as intense as with the previous dance. I had to leave after the two dances because I was “taxi driver” for three people. It was 10.00pm by this time and my head was buzzing. Oh what a night!

I arrived home shortly after 11.00pm. It took me a long time to get to sleep. I was too stoked! I got in early this morning feeling quite tired and nursing a sore shoulder. I am afraid my dancing days are well and truly over. But the memory of that dance last night will stay with me for a long time.