Super Snap

My age has been creeping up on me lately. I am nearing that age where I can check the box "35 and over." This freaks me out! Yet a few weeks ago, a group of ladies and I went out for an evening on the town. By the end of the night, my rapidly aging body revealed itself.

My friend Corina (see the blonde on the far left) and I had been trying to get a group of ladies together for an evening on the town for quite some time. Finally, we assembled a group of five women we work with to go to dinner in downtown Madison.

The evening began as we went to a restaurant named Frida's to enjoy some stellar Mexican food and pitchers of margaritas. We laughed, talked, laughed, talked, and so on for hours. We watched tables around us come and go. We ordered more drinks and just had so much fun laughing until tears were streaking down our eyes. Finally, our waiter came to our table to ask us to move as they were tearing down the upstairs as a transition for the dance club it would be soon.

Embarrassed, we acquiesced and headed downstairs. Shortly after, all the ladies but Corina and I decided to head home. However, Corina and I were ready to "get our groove on." We asked the waiter where "above average middle aged women" might enjoy a little dancing. Honestly, he was stumped! Hmm. . . Am I really that old?

Corina had gone to school at Madison, so she knew a club where she had gone as a student. When we walked in, we asked the lady at the door what type of music they would be playing. She responded "Indie Pop Queer?" We had no idea what that meant; we just wanted to dance.

So, we took our above-average-middle-aged bodies on the dance floor. Soon we were twisting, turning, shaking, and shimmying to whatever the DJ was playing. Around us were many much younger people dancing in a very different manner from us. Yet, we didn't care. (We also realized that the "queer" portion of the music theme may have been a reference to sexual preference. . . Oops!)

Soon I noticed that I was getting a cramp. Yes, a cramp! We had only been dancing for a few minutes, and I was already exhausted. Then, I noticed the oddest pang: my fingers on my left hand ached. How does that happen?

It hit me: I was using my "Super Snap" dance move. Everytime my hips moved, I would snap my fingers. This sent me into hysterics. I mean, who snaps their fingers? Am I from the 50's? Maybe I should bust out my poodle skirt and saddle shoes. Yet, I continued to snap. I would catch myself doing it anytime I got lost in the music. Shake, Shake, Snap-- Laugh! It was a riot.

We danced for a few more hours, and unlike when we were in college, we scurried home in time for Corina to pay her teenage babysitter.

Did I prove my age that evening? Perhaps. . . But, we had an amazing time.