meeting a guy at a frat house? done. million and one times, welcome to college.
meeting a guy in the midst of being rocked and rolled across the dance floor at a band party at the frat house? done, yes(!), happened(!), and is now in the running for being America's next top best nights of college. (!!!!).
We met when Boy-fun-n-dance came up from behind, twirled me into a swing-dancin' daze and had us dancing until the wrist bands were gone and the band stopped singing. magical. an exhilarating rush that lasted and lasted. i don't know why i loved it so much. fun. i mean REAL fun. the kind we have sober. /bestintheworld. (pun intended. see: swingme).
and then we met. As in, exchanged names, relentless banter and sarcastic half-sentences in reply to each other's flirtatious back-and-forths. Integrally interrupted by curious frat friends trying to get a word in and a laugh out while we meet. sure, more fun.
and then we met. as in, hometowns, majors, classes, and the non important yet seemingly imminent information supposed to be discussed upon introduction. huge let down. okay, by this point there's a little more light and he's not the cutest boy in the bunch. but he also loses his expert-swing-dancing- appeal because he's shy and ..i don't know the word. the one to describe the fact that he isn't interesting or fun anymore. it was annoying one-word answering (by both parties, I admit to it too) while waiting to figure out a way to say "I'm gonna go" without saying "i'm gonna go."
I wish we could dance boys into love.
oh. glad you haven't left yet. best part- z was walking into my building just as boy-fun-n-dance was walking me to the door. Z! wait! i promise i'm not with him! /fahck
