Week 45 - Dance Hall Dreaming

Dance Hall Dreaming

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Love at first sight? A million and one strangers and some sort of magical soulmate is supposed to materialize? And you’re supposed to be able to recognize them?  Seems like a silly notion made up by hopeless romantic types. But when you get down to it, what’s so wrong with that?

Ramsey didn’t openly admit he believed in or even thought about love at first sight. He was too cool for that. Too jaded. Too cynical. Too much the realist. Or maybe that was just his outward persona. He certainly knew what he felt the first time he saw her. He knew what he felt the first time he saw any woman he ended up in a relationship with. That first glance, that first flutter, that first burst of nervousness. He could remember their smile and he could remember what he felt deep inside. It had happened enough times before and he was sure it would again.

Maybe that wasn’t love at first sight. Maybe that was lustful attraction or some biochemical response to the geometry of another person’s facial proportions. Ramsey didn’t know. He was all too aware of all these things, and he thought about all of them far too often.  He had been trying to push it deep down inside. He didn’t want to think about those things all the time. He didn’t want to obsess. He wasn’t in the mood to add to his stress or anxieties, and she certainly didn’t need to go adding to his neuroses.

But then when he first saw her, he instantaneously knew he was ready to add to that deep set of neuroses. A moment earlier he wouldn’t have been. A moment earlier, he would have had no interest in the idea of diving back into dating and opening up hard emotions and feelings. A moment earlier, the door was slammed and locked. A moment earlier didn’t matter. A moment earlier was the past and the past was nothing but a whisper now. The moment, the present, the feeling, the future – these were the things that were there now. These were the things that filled Ramsey’s mind. All that despite the fact that he wasn’t sure if he believed in love at first sight.

He saw her on the dance floor. He didn’t know her name, but he knew. What did he know? He knew something alright. He knew she caught his eye and he was pretty sure she had seen him and he was pretty sure she had reacted as well. Just a glimpse. Just a bit of a gesture, a twinge of muscle and a smile crept out only to disappear an instant later. Just a bit of motion and her dancing body turned to reveal more of itself. Just a moment. Just a bit.

But then the moment was gone. Her back to him, her face hidden. What had he really seen? Nothing. It could have been in his head, imagined, a wish of what he wanted it to have been.

She danced the other way, further and further. Maybe he was supposed to chase her, but if so, she hadn’t given him any indication to do so.

If only he had the courage to walk across the dance floor and say (or do) something (anything).

What? What was he supposed to do? He didn’t know. There had been plenty of moments before in the past where he had known what to do. But courage was in short supply tonight. Not always and not often, but tonight anyway. Not that Ramsey was going to admit that to anyone, especially not himself.

But trying and talking meant opening up to risk, and Ramsey wasn’t really interested in any pain right now. Pain minimization was first and foremost tonight.

Pain was the worst. Pain sucked. Ramsey had had enough of that. He had a “look but don’t touch” policy happening. Maybe that would change. Maybe the right woman would make that change. The right smile, the right glance, the right joke. It could be anything. Anything could be right, given the right circumstance. He knew that. He allowed for that. Just not right now.

Candace was on the dance floor. Surrounded by the crowd. Absorbed in the motion and movement, part of the collective, robbed of individuality. She was drawn to the moment, drawn to becoming lost. Sweat dripping, her body sticking to her clothes. Warm flesh all around. A sea of strangers. She was surrounded but alone, and that’s the way she wanted it. Her mind shut down, her body in motion, not thinking, but instead reacting.

Move, feel the beat, feel, the rhythm, live the music.

She had dreams made of music. She could see the notes, from the inside. The sound waves wrapped around her. The music flowing in and out. She was a part of it, she was it. She could become music. The music was her and she was it. They were such beautiful and lonely dreams.

Candace didn’t notice Ramsey. She knew nothing of his gaze or his desires. Or his made up rules that prohibited him from supposedly feeling any of the things he was clearly feeling. She didn’t see or know anything about what the right circumstances were that he was waiting on, or that he was abiding by some foolhardy made up rules in the back of his mind. She didn’t know him and didn’t care and wasn’t there to make his life any easier.

She wasn’t there for him at all. She didn’t care about him. Why should she? She didn’t know him. How could she?

But there on the dance floor, for one brief split-second of a moment, she turned and looked and caught a glimpse. And she saw. Some guy. Cute. Stubble. Leaning against the bar with some friends. He was just some guy. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. But she sure as heck had some other sorts of instantaneous thoughts. But none of those were anywhere near the ballpark of his issues of love or abstinence or what was to be read into a first sight glancing. No, there was nothing clean or pure in her thoughts...

A nice clean smile with a nice scruffy face.

It was certainly a good enough place to start.

But that wasn’t why she was here. She wasn’t here for him or for any of the rest of them. She was here for herself. She was here to move and feel her body and free herself until she was worn and tired and exhausted. She wanted to sweat and feel her body grow weary. She wanted to escape the moment and feel freedom. She certainly didn’t need to feel wanted or to want or any of that.

She lost her smile, then turned and got lost in the crowd.

Eddie didn’t dance. He didn’t really care for the music, the moisture or the bar. But those weren’t important elements for him to have a good time. Eddie cared about the clientele. Eddie came for the booze and for the things the booze did to the girls that went to places like this. Eddie didn’t believe in love and he certainly didn’t believe in soulmates. He was only concerned with the here and now. Eddie was all about style over substance.

The girl was in a black dress. They always wore black dresses, thought Eddie. Of course he was in a shiny grey shirt with black slacks, so who was he to judge. Nightclub uniforms. At least in that way, they were a perfect match.

Eddie spotted Ramsey walking his way and gave him a half-drunken salute. Eddie was there to have fun. He was having fun.

“Ramsey!”

Ramsey nodded but didn’t respond to the challenge. Eddie was not happy. He was not giving up.

“Ramsey!”

Finally Ramsey acquiesced.

“Eddie!”

Eddie laughed and laughed. He loved Ramsey. Not his brother, but he was sure a comrade-in-arms. And if that didn’t make him a brother, then Eddie didn’t know what would.

“Where have you been?”

He put his arm around Ramsey and didn’t wait for an answer.

“This... This is Charlotte.”

Ramsey smiled and nodded.

“And Charlotte, this is my very best friend in the world, Ramsey. Best.”

“I was standing right here when you were yelling his name.”

“Yes you were,” Eddie agreed. “Yes she was,” he told Ramsey, as if Ramsey was somehow going to argue. “This one’s got jokes. Yes she does. A sharp tongue. But how sharp?”

“Play nice or you won’t find out.”

“Ouch. Again with the lip. Why so much lip on this one?”

“Nice to meet you,” Ramsey interjected.

“Ramsey is the best. The very best.”

“I don’t know who this guy is, but good luck.”

Eddie looked at Ramsey as if he had suddenly been betrayed.

“Jokes from this one too? I got jokers all around me. Everybody thinks they’re funny.”

“You certainly do,” Charlotte replied, deadpan.

Eddie pulled Ramsey close and a little off to one side.

“Charlotte tells me of a party. So we can get out of here. And we call up some of the other fellas. She says she’s got lots of friends. Lots.”

“I think I’m going to leave.”

“You... you’re not going anywhere.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Don’t make me try.”

“You try and Charlotte might walk away.”

“Why? ...why do you put me in this position? Over and over and over? Impossible you are.”

“I’m not putting you in any position. I’m simply acting. What you do in reaction is entirely up to you.”

“Impossible.”

“Go talk to the girl.”

“Good advice. But don’t leave. Do something fun tonight. Something. You should do that more often.”

“You’re drinking too much.”

“Yes I am.”

Ramsey walked towards the door. He was going to go. What was the point of sticking around? It was only making him overthink things and added to his anxiety. What was he doing, he asked himself? Why was he worrying so much? Why was he thinking about this girl so much? He hadn’t even met her. He barely saw her. There was no reason to care so much. There was no reason to worry so much. He told himself that over and over as he walked towards the door. He didn’t have to impress anyone. Certainly not his idiot friends. All he had to do was get out of there and stop thinking so much. That was all he had to do.

Hilary left Candace alone on the dance floor and made her way across the room. Let Candace fend off men all night if she wanted to. Hilary was there to be a good friend, but she was in no mood to be bothered.

But she had seen one person in particular and it was bothering her a great deal. And it would continue to bother her unless she did something. And if she didn’t do it quick, then Candace might see this person and then they would all be bothered.

Michael sat at a table, looking out at the dance floor. He had seen Candace earlier, but he was pretty sure she hadn’t seen him. That was okay. He didn’t necessarily want to be seen tonight. He just wanted to see her. To keep an eye on her.

“You know, I'm really tired of seeing your car outside our place.”

Michael looked up. It was Hilary. He was not a fan of hers and she pretty much absolutely hated him.

“I just wanted to see her.”

“No. No, no. You don’t talk. You’re weird. You’re stalking her now. It’s creepy and you need to stop.”

“How is she? She knows I’m sorry, right?”

“We all know just how truly sorry you really are. But seriously, it’s over. Move on. Away from us. Away from our apartment building.”

“You can’t make me.”

“I can call the police.”

“Damn—Hil—It’s not like that. I’m not… I’m not doing anything wrong. I want to apologize. I want to make it up to her. I want another chance to get things right.”

“We don’t always get that chance.”

“Tell me what to say. Tell me I can fix this.”

Hilary laughed at him. It was a cold and brutal laugh. She had no regards for his feelings. She had no problem making him feel as small as possible.

“Stalk, stalk, stalker. Listen you pathetic little worm… Get a grip on reality and leave her the fuck alone.”

The room was packed with bodies. The dance floor was worse. Ramsey pushed his way through the crowd. He felt the rhythm of the music. He felt the beat. If flowed within him as he walked. Moving to the music gave him strength. It filled him with an air of unbridled confidence.

There she was, in the middle of the dance floor, oblivious to the motion around her.

Candace was in a zone all of her own. The music flowed out of her as her energy infected all those around her. She didn’t notice. She did notice any of them. They didn’t matter. There was no one there. No one mattered. She was alone in the universe. The center of existence. She was all there was and all there ever would be.

Then Ramsey tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hi.”

Candace opened her eyes. She pushed her wet hair back and wiped her brow. She turned to Ramsey and smiled. She recognized the cute face and the cute stubble from before.

Ramsey recognized that smile. It was a knowing smile, a smile that let him in on a little secret, the secret that she understood life, love and the universe in a way that other people never could or would. It was a smile for him. Or at least that’s what he thought.

The smile turned smirk as she summed him up. He was a bar hopper. A party boy. Probably had been in a frat once upon a time. He was a boy. She had had enough of boys and certainly had no need for him, despite what physical charms he might possess.

“Hello,” she said slowly, emphasizing the syllables. Hello was a word. Something adults said to each other. Hi was for children or the nervous people on the street. She was neither.

“Hello,” responded, not sure why, but aware that it was what he should do.

“Not interested.”

“You don’t know—”

“Yeah, doesn’t matter. I came here to dance. Alone. Not to be hit on by scuzzies.”

“Then dance with me.”

“Apparently suzzies that can’t hear so good. Alone. A-L-O-N-E.”

“Well played. You can be condescending and tell people off. Bravo. But you don’t know me and you don’t know what I’m about.”

“I’m not going to fight you. I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to know you. I told you I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t asking you to be cute or persistent or to try to charm me or talk me into anything. I was asking politely for you to leave me alone. So be a man and not a boy and do what you should. Or next time I stop being polite.”

Ramsey took a step back. He didn’t understand what was happening or what he had done wrong.

“Life is no fun if you never take a chance. All I did was ask for one little dance. I’m not one of these other assholes lurking around this place. You have no idea.”

“Good speech. See you later.”

Candace walked away, leaving Ramsey to reevaluate the amount of faith he had previously placed in glances and first looks.

Hilary was crossing the dance floor and saw Candace walking the other way. She sped up and made a diagonal to intercept.

“Who was that?”

“Who?”

“The guy you were talking to?”

“That was nobody. Can we go?”

“Yes. God, yes. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are you alright?”

“Michael’s here.”

“What? Did he follow us? Is he following me?”

“Don’t worry, I already told him off. But we should take off anyway.”

“God, these fucking men. Such idiots.”

Candace and Hilary went outside and waited on the valet to flag down a taxi for them. Michael hadn’t had enough punishment for one night and decided to follow them. As he approached, Hilary saw him, stepped up and put her hand his in face.

“--Just give me a minute?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“She got your letters. And I read them. All of them. They’re pathetic. The voicemail – even more pathetic. The Emails are the worst. Stop now or they’re all going on the internet. But honestly, they’re probably all going on the internet anyway. In fact, some might already be there.”

“This really doesn’t involve you.”

“You made my best friend cry. This is ALL about me. You’re a freak, a geek, an out of shape, busted looking, loser. It’s time to let her be. You messed it up, it’s your fault. You can’t change

that. Time to say good-bye, micropenis.”

Hilary looked him up and down and paused on his crotch. Michael was a little uncomfortable and more than embarrassed.

Ramsey had stepped outside, not quite ready to give up on trying to meet this mystery girl. He didn’t know why she was so cold to him, but watching what was transpiring, he was beginning to have a pretty good guess.

“Are you alright?” he asked Candace.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“What? You... You don’t even know me.”

“That’s right. And I’m not going to.”

Ramsey stared, aghast. He gave it everything he had and tried to maintain his composure.

“I’m not this guy. I swear I’m not.”

A taxi pulled up. Hilary pulled Candace away from Ramsey and helped her into the back. Michael tried to grab Hilary’s arm, but Ramsey stopped him.

“Leave’em alone.”

“Fuck you. Who the fuck are you anyway?”

Hilary turned back and for a moment it seemed like she was going to punch Michael or Ramsey or both. She grabbed Michael’s car keys out of his hand and threw them into the middle of the street.

“Hey!”

Hilary flipped Michael off with both middle fingers.

“Drop dead fucker. And leave us the fuck alone.”

“Bitch!” Michael screamed as he tried to cross into traffic to recover his keys.

Ramsey just stood there, looking into the back window of the taxi cab.

Hilary got in and the driver began to pull out into traffic.

The taxi inched into the slow Saturday night Sunset Strip traffic jam and began to drive away. Ramsey stood there and waited. He looked at that window and it moved further and further way. He just kept looking. Smaller and smaller it got. He just stood there.

Even though the taxi was a block away and there was pretty much no chance he could tell what was happening inside, Ramsey was pretty sure he could see her face, as she peeked back to see if he was still watching. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe.

Ramsey didn’t believe in love at first sight. Despite all evidence that he certainly believed in something. He just wasn’t sure what it was and he was in no hurry to define things.

Eventually, Ramsey turned and walked back towards the club.