The Pretty Woman dance

You wink at me, turn your head slightly, flick your hair back. I'll sidle over and introduce myself, get your name, more your number.

I'll call, we'll talk, soon meet, and walk. Coffee, food, dinner and drinks. A true gentleman, suave and witty, cocksure yet good-humored.

We'll dance around each other, twirling, whirling, feeling the tempo, the beat cursing through our veins. Can you feel the rhythm?

But don't you know the music ends? Can't you hear the band fading out, the song never goes on forever. You are so beautiful a vessel, fair of skin with a smile so radiant it could light its way through a three state power cut.

Yet this is just a one-time dance. I have to go back across the country, to dance where I live, not to return to this dancefloor for a while.

Why would you think that I would look for a dancing partner based on her looks? Aren't you aware it's a game I play, a compulsion when faced with pretty dancers, something I can't control. This is the way of the world, the sky is blue, the sea is wet, and TRK dances with pretty girls.

But TRK's full time dancing partner will not be a particularly pretty face, one who has always had dancers chase her all her life. No, this is not the way. I will dance to my own tune, with someone who can hear that music too.

Happy hunting

TRK