He’s wearing this ridiculous black fedora-like hat with a red feather in it, and I pull it off his head and slap it on my own. He tries to grab my hips to pull me in closer for our dance, but I back away with a moonwalk and then promptly start pretending like I’m shopping for groceries around him.
Pick the item off the shelf.
Put it in the cart.
Do a little shimmy.
Repeat.
Jess is laughing so hard at me, she can barely stand straight, and lederhosen man seems intrigued. He starts shopping next to me, and then pulls out the lawnmower dance.
Back and forth, we trade off every awful dance style we can think of. I’m almost out of ideas when I remember one my dad used to do at weddings where he’d grab his ankle with one hand and the back of his neck with the other, and then proceed to pull his knee toward his face on a hop, and then knee back on a hop, over and over. I think he called it the funky chicken? Mom always called it his aneurysm dance.
Regardless, now is the perfect time to whip it out.
I reach for my ankle and get my other hand in place behind my neck, and then in what has to be the worst timing ever, lederhosen boy turns toward me and reaches like he’s going to pull me in for a kiss.
But with me mid-dance move, instead of a kiss, he gets a knee to the balls.
He stumbles back with a groan, but in the process, he’s grabbed ahold of my hips and is taking me with him. I know he’s in pain, which is likely why he doesn’t hear his friend’s warnings that he’s dangerously close to the edge of the stage. There’s a windmill of arms and a desperate attempt from me to try to keep us balanced, but it’s no use.
We tumble off the stage to a chorus of ooohhh!
The first thing I realize is that I should be in more pain than I am after falling off a stage. The second thing I realize is that the reason I’m not in pain is because lederhosen boy broke my fall.
Jess gets to me first, and she’s asking me if I’m okay through laughter so strong it’s got her eyes all welled with tears. Once we’re both standing, my lederhosen man groans, his buddies rushing over to make sure he’s alright.
“I think that’s our cue to get out of here,” Jess says through another spout of laughter, and she’s already tugging me toward the door.
“Oh wait, I still have his hat!”
“Keep it,” she says, tapping the black fabric on my head. “Souvenir.”
We link arms and sprint out of the bar and down the block, laughing the entire way. When we’re a few doors down, Jess tugs me into the next bar, one much quieter and low key with far less patrons.
“I can’t do another shot, Jess. I’ll throw up,” I tell her before she has the chance to scream Spring Break.
“I think we both need waters,” Jess agrees with a smile. “I’ll get a couple beers for us, too, just in case. Grab us that table in the corner?”
I nod, sliding into the high top and wiping the sweat off my forehead once I take off the German hat. My heart is still racing, and when Jess joins me with drinks in hand, she shakes her head.
“That poor kid is never going to forget dancing with you.”
I laugh. “God, I hope he’s okay.”
“He’ll be fine. Cheers,” she says, holding up her water. I clink my plastic water cup to hers, and then we both sigh with relief after chugging nearly all of it.
For a while, we just sit there catching our breath and sipping on our water as we look around the bar. And I can’t help but smile as I look at one of my best friends in the entire world and think of all we’ve been through.
I also can’t help but think about what Bear said about telling her what happened to me.
It makes my stomach cramp thinking about it, but I know in my heart it’s time.
“So, job hunt wasn’t that fun today, huh?”
Jess makes a gagging notion. “It’s the worst. But, really, I’m just keeping myself busy while I wait to hear from that wedding planner I interviewed with last week.”
“Know when you’ll hear back?”
“Probably never,” she says on a laugh. “I was snotting all over them in the interview. But if they have a heart and can look past that, hopefully in the next couple of weeks. She said they had more candidates to interview.”
“I bet you get the job.”
“We’ll see,” she says with a shrug. Then, her eyes are sad. “I’m sorry Gavin bailed tonight, Ex.”
“Don’t be. He said he’d make it up to me and I believe it.”