My sweet mother with one of her “pets”
I am a horrible daughter. I left my mother at home alone with a mouse in the house and went to a diner to stress eat.
Let me start at the beginning.
Monday evenings my sister, Chrystal, attends BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) and is usually gone by the time I get home from school. A few Mondays ago I came home to find my mother staring at the floor beside her rocking chair saying, “I think we have a pet.”
My sweet 91-year-old mother has dementia so I wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating our cute little fox terrier, Puddles, from the 70’s or just seeing a dust bunny on the floor.
“What do you mean, you think we have a pet?”
“Over here by my chair. I think it’s a mouse.”
I had begun to walk over to her until she uttered the word “mouse” then I quickly began backtracking.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, and he’s so cute.”
She lowered her hand to the floor and I screamed, “Don’t touch it!”
“But he’s so cute. I just want to pick him up and cuddle him.”
“Stop!!! Don’t you dare.”
I gathered up what small amount of courage I had (which even on a good day is next to nothing) and stealthily walked over behind her chair to see our, hopefully imaginary, little pet. There was a tiny bundle next to her chair and I assumed it was just a lone Christmas ornament that had strayed from the pack. I thought that until I saw the bundle wiggle its ears.
“Eeeek, a mouse!” If there had been a chair close to me I would have jumped on it. Instead, I grabbed my phone and ran outside to our carport and called Chrystal.
“There’s a mouse in the house,” I said very Dr. Seuss-ly.”
“In the den. I thought it was a Christmas ornament until it wiggled it’s ears and now mother wants to pet it. What should I do?” I said that hoping she was going to race home to take care of it.
“It’s not running away?”
“No, it’s just sitting there freaking me out!”
“Well if it’s staying put and not scampering away it must be dying.”
“I think maybe mother rocked over it, causing him a slow, agonizing death.”
“Well don’t tell her that. She’ll feel bad.” At that point I didn’t really care what my sweet, mouse-loving mother felt.
“I can’t handle this. If it was a spider I could take care of it, but I don’t do mice. You have to take care of it.”
“OK, I will when I get home after BSF.”
“But that’s in 4 hours. I’m FREAKING out…”
By this time my anxiety level was rising along with my voice level.
“Get a bowl and put it on top of him. That way he won’t wander off before I get home. I’ll deal with it then.”
“Are you crazy?!?! This is freaking me out! I can’t even go back inside.”
“Where are you?”
“Outside in the carport.”
“(Sigh) Just go back inside and keep mother from touching him and put a bowl on top of him.”
“I can’t do that. I’M FREAKING OUT!!”
Chrystal laughingly gave up on me and hung up.
I went back inside, took a bowl from the cupboard and proceeded to ask my mother to put it on top of her pet.
“I can’t,” she said, “he’s too close to the chair.”
Bummer. I realized it was time for me to rise to the occasion and be the adult in the room. (I hate being the adult in the room.)
I prayed. Nothing. No bravery dust fell from heaven. I then recited all the Bible verses I’d committed to memory. Nothing. No sudden surge of courage. I did deep breathing. Nada. Just made me dizzy. So I stood frozen in the kitchen staring at my mother. When her hand went down towards her pet again I screamed, “Do. Not. Touch. That. Mouse.” Grabbing my purse, I made my escape outside leaving my crazy mother inside next to what might as well have been a terrorist.
I found solace in the loaded tater tots at Sherry’s diner down the street. Halfway through my tots I began to feel guilty for leaving my mother alone with a monster, but not guilty enough to go back home. Instead, ordering more food seemed better and definitely more logical.
Three courses later I figured it was time to venture home via the Starbucks drive through window for a Chai Tea Latte. I sat in my parking spot, sipping away, and left Chrystal a voicemail, “I’m here, but not going inside until you take care of the mouse.”
Proof…sometimes people think I make these stories up. Trust me, you can’t make this stuff up!
A minute later she texted that the coast was clear.
Once inside mother told me she didn’t know why I was frightened by such a cute little thing. I stared back wondering if she was always this way or if the dementia had taken her fear away. She also mentioned she may have slipped him some crumbs from her cookie. (No wonder we have mice, cuz If You Give A Mouse A Cookie…)
Not a proud moment for Miss Dana. Leaving one’s aging mother alone for four hours wasn’t kind, thoughtful or wise. What if she’d gotten up and tripped over the mouse as he tried to escape? What if she really did pick him up to have a snuggle? What if he had managed to escape only to wind up having a snuggle with ME in the night? (Shudder!)
Oh well. One of these days I will learn to not overreact. It reminded me of the time I found the leaf in my hallway, or when the power went out during a snowstorm (those of you who read my book will know those stories…you other losers need to buy the book and find out…hee hee). But I do so want to be the adult in the room. Like I said, a spider would be creepy but doable. When I was teaching at Crossroads Christian School we didn’t have a school nurse. If someone was hurt on the playground, we all had our specialty. Mine was vomit or blood. No broken bones for Miss Dana. Other teachers would pass out with blood or throw up themselves over vomit. So I guess being afraid of a mouse is my broken bones and spiders are my blood and vomit. We all have our skills. Fortunately for me Chrystal’s is mice.
I never saw a mouse in the house before December 9, 2019 or seen one since. It’s been 2 ½ weeks. I pray the streak continues.
Would you have been able to handle finding a mouse, alive or even half-dead, in your house? I can’t receive comments here in my blog, but please feel free to leave them on the Facebook post. Thanks!
Chuck FROM the 70’s
If you grew up in the 60’s and 70’s and I were to mention a certain bullfrog named Jeremiah, whose love of the ladies and propensity for drinking wine would shame the Christmas carol whose name he’s associated with, you could probably tell me the name of the band who sang his song. BUT, could you name one of the band’s lead singers on whom I had a crush? No???? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s Chuck Negron. And though it has been nearly 50 years since Three Dog Night’s “Joy to the World” was a number one hit, I still have a major crush on the man.
In the summer of 2018 Linda and I were driving south on I-205 on the east side of Portland when a Three Dog Night billboard caught my eye. They were playing at one of the nearby casinos so I grabbed my phone (Linda was driving) and called for tickets. Sadly they were sold out (nooooooo!!!!). But being so excited that they were still touring I googled for more upcoming dates only to find out that Chuck (my Chuck) was no longer with the group. Soooooo, we googled just him. Come to find out he does summer gigs with a group called The Happy Together Tour. After deciding between driving to some nearby town or flying someplace exciting, we opted for—Vegas Baby! So, July 11 of 2019 Linda and I boarded a plane for Las Vegas. I’d never been there before. Not sure if I’ll go back. Kinda wild for Miss Dana.
However, the concert was the bomb! Even the Uber ride from the hotel to the concert venue was the bomb! The driver wasn’t familiar with Three Dog Night so Linda and I gave him a quick education in song during the 20 minute ride. He seemed entertained as we told him we’d NEVER BEEN TO SPAIN and that he was a LIAR when he finally said he did recognize some of the tunes. And that MAMA TOLD ME NOT TO COME cuz I prefer to be OUT IN THE COUNTRY rather than in Vegas. And even if we’re late THE SHOW MUST GO ON cuz ELI’S COMING! And being a sucker for AN OLD FASHIONED LOVE SONG I couldn’t wait to feast my eyes on the one and only Chuck Negron.
Linda and I, being cheap, bought tickets way up in the balcony instead of on the floor close to the stage (a mistake I did not make on a recent ticket purchase to see Sara Bareilles–row four was awesome!) Anyway, looking around I could tell I was among my people. When I was a nanny we took the girls to see the Spice Girls. There, I was certainly not among my people. But The Happy Together Tour group was full of middle-aged, over the hill, retirees and senior saints. Everyone was friendly as well as feeling nostalgic for the bodies and hairlines they’d had decades before.
The Cowsills of “I Love the Flower Girl” and “Love American Style” fame opened the night and they were very fun. I remember not being allowed to watch the Love American Style TV show, but loved the theme song. They were followed by The Buckinghams and The Classics IV. I hadn’t heard of them before, but recognized some of their songs. They were fine, but I was getting anxious for my Chuckster.
Intermission couldn’t get over soon enough. Gary Puckett, lead singer from The Union Gap, began the second half. I always thought it was funny their most popular song “Young Girl Get Out of My Mind” was followed by “This Girl is a Woman Now.” Apparently she did not get out of his mind. Gary sang his last song, and I was on the edge of my seat. You could tell the crowd was getting anxious as well (or maybe it was just me). Shadoe Stevens’ deep DJ voice rang out with, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great JOY that we introduce, Chuck Negron.”
Chuck IN his 70’s
It took a few seconds for the 77 year old rocker to make his way center stage. I’m thinking back in 1970 he may have walked a little differently. But I gotta tell ya, he was still a mighty fine looking man. Back in the day he had long hair and a thick mustache. My senior year in high school I dated a guy with long hair…and a beard…also a singer…also a mighty fine looking man…hmmmmm…ANYWAY, Chuck wowed us with five of their hits. And then, when it was time for his last song, the crowd went crazy (again, maybe it was just me) as the intro for “Joy to the World” began. Sooooo great!!
That evening was such a fun walk down memory lane. I told Linda at the beginning of the evening I was going to be an old lady groupie and not leave without an autograph, picture and at least a kiss on the cheek. But I guess the aging Happy Together Tour cast need their rest. There was no table of merchandise to hawk or lines of swooning women waiting to be close to their teen idol. I was so disappointed. I had what I was going to say all prepared. Here’s how the conversation would have gone:
Chuck: Hello there. Thanks for coming to the show tonight.
Me: Hi Chuck. You’re welcome. I flew all the way from Portland to see you (and boy are my arms tired—no I wouldn’t have said that!).
Chuck: Wow, you must be a really big fan.
Me: Oh I am, I am!! Your songs are the soundtrack of my life. When I hear “One” I’m in the front yard of our house on Salazar street in San Diego climbing trees with my neighbors. When I hear “Joy to the World” I’m playing four-square at Oakhurst Elementary in Ft. Worth Texas. When I hear “Old Fashioned Love Song” I’m with my friend on my living room couch in La Grande, Oregon. When I hear “Eli’s Coming” I’m in Anacortes, Washington singing it out as my first solo my junior year. (Yes, we moved a lot!) Thank you for choosing such great songs to sing. You and Three Dog Night will always be one of my top favorites.
At that point Chuck would have invited me back to his hotel room, but not wanting to dis Linda I decline.
I just texted Linda the advertisement for next summer’s tour…
Do you have a favorite band or song from your past that brings up fond memories?
(I can’t accept comments here, but please feel free to respond on my Facebook page.)
Rick Warren, pastor of Saddleback Church, greatly offended me in the first sentence of his book The Purpose Driven Life: “It’s not about you.” Uh, excuse me, but yes it is, Sir. I don’t care how famous someone is, they can’t just up and tell you what’s what when apparently they haven’t a clue. Because you see, in my world, it really is all about me. Just ask anyone.
I guess it’s connected to my controlling personality (that I am trying really hard to overcome). Even when I try and make it about someone else, it rolls back around to me. Innocent dinner plans with my friend, Linda, usually wind up like this:
“Where do you wanna go for dinner tonight?” I ask politely.
“I don’t care. You pick.”
“No I always pick. It’s your turn.”
“OK, how about Applebee’s.”
“No, I just ate there on Tuesday.”
“No, they have Pepsi instead of Coke.”
“That’s right. Then how about Red Robin? They have Coke.”
“I don’t feel like a burger.”
“But they have other…”
“Oh sorry. The Thai Place by church?”
“No, it’s cold in there.”
“Pastini? Oh wait, I forgot you prefer Olive Garden.”
“I’m not in the mood for Italian.”
“Heidi’s? Elmer’s? La Castita?”
“Oh, yes, McMenamins! I love their tater tots!”
“Then McMenamins it is.”
“OK, but next time I get to pick.”
I mean well.
When you’re single it is ever so very easy to get caught up in your own stuff because there is no one else’s stuff around to clutter your brain. For the past few years I’ve lived with my mother and sister so I’m becoming more aware of how I’ve spent the greater part of my life rather carefree and self-centered. I’m less 100% focused on me now. I’m probably 60-40. No, probably 70-30. (80-20?)
Last summer I stayed in an Airbnb in Anacortes, Washington (so beautiful). One of the first things I noticed when I entered my adorable cottage was the Wifi network printed on a card: danamyhome. How nice of them to make the Wifi network for my stay as Dana My Home. I thought it must be a lot of trouble to do that for each guest. Then I wondered if they just did it for me. Either way I was impressed with their “above and beyond” kind of guest-pleasing attitude.
Later in the week, my friend, Stacy, joined me for a few days. I showed her the Wifi network and she was just as impressed as I was in that attention to detail. One afternoon my Airbnb host, Amy, came by to say hi.
“Just checking to see how you’re doing.”
“We’re doing great,” I said.
“Hey, how difficult is it to change the Wifi network each time to fit your guests?” Stacy asked.
“Oh, we don’t change it each time. We just leave it Dan and Amy home.”
“Wait, what?” I asked. Then I turned and looked at the card again. I laughed so hard I could hardly tell Amy what I had thought.
Stacy and I couldn’t stop laughing at how I thought it was all for me. She is a dear friend but also has a Masters in counseling so I get sessions for free all the time. She assured me that it wasn’t a sign of narcissism. It was just since my name is Dana my brain focused on that spelling instead of separating it into Dan and Amy. But we still got a good chuckle out of it.
So whether it’s in my home or Dan and Amy’s, I am thankful for the people God has placed in my life who are patient with me along my journey to becoming a little less “all about me.” Even Rick Warren.
Question: What did you see when you first looked at the Wifi picture?
love music from the Baroque era, 1600-1750. Especially anything composed by Bach. Good old Johann Sebastian. He’s the Man!!!
have many memories of this particular concerto.
My sisters and I made up dances to it when we were young. I’m not sure why we even had a recording of it,
but we did. It’s not that my family was
all that cultured. Lawrence Welk and Hee
Haw were about as fancy as we got. Maybe
my piano teacher gave me the record, I don’t know. Anyway, the little gray house on Fisk Street
in Pullman, Washington had its walls rattled as we pranced around. It was a combination of moves from the 1600’s
with a little do-si-do square dance thrown in for fun. I can still picture us dancing in our
pajamas. We’d be all serious with, what
we thought were, the official dance moves from the era, and then giggle as we’d
swing our partner at the end of a phrase.
later while in college, my fellow music major friends and I would play it and take
turns directing the pretend ensembles in our dorm rooms. Ah, music nerds.
find it interesting, and quite telling about me, that I love Baroque music so
much. Dynamically, there are no
crescendos or swells. It pretty much
goes from loud to soft quite instantly (mostly due to the abilities of the
instruments at the time). Like with me,
I’m strolling along during my day just fine at a quiet(ish) level, when boom,
something happens and I either burst out with a huge laugh or voice and my volume
goes from pianissimo to forte just like that.
No warning. Just, “Here I am!”
once the piece begins, it rhythmically keeps driving to the end. That’s me.
It’s, “Let’s get ‘er done time folks.”
That’s why Baroque music is my music of choice when cleaning the
house. Boom, boom, sweep, dust, scrub
and look at that, we’re done!
is not the piece you want to listen to when you’re tired and need a nap. This is “go time” music. So the next time you’ve fallen behind on a
project, need to organize your thoughts, or just wanna get your groove on, take
a listen to something Baroque.
Preferably this piece by my man Bach.
My lovely friend
Tina and I try to attend the Oregon Bach Festival every year. This year’s dates are June 26-July 13. We even get a T-Shirt like true Bach groupies.
Question: What is your favorite era of music?
had coffee with friend and fellow blogger, Wendy, last Saturday morning. Here is a link to her blog http://partofmystory.blogspot.com.
I mentioned since I started blogging
again, after a rather lengthy absence, the few posts I’ve done have been
serious and I missed the funny me. Cuz I
am a funny one. And when I say funny I
don’t mean funny Ha Ha, but funny in that I do and say stupid things. Like this episode a while back with my
equally funny sister, Chrystal.
my basement dweller days Chrystal and I would occasionally go grocery shopping
together. (She lived upstairs in the
main part of the house and I, and my two cats, lived in the cute little basement. Cute, if you could overlook the
spiders.) We came home from one such
shopping trip to find I was locked out of my apartment.
problem, just go through my house, through the garage and laundry room and use
the connecting door,” Chrystal suggested.
“Ok.” As I said that I was trying to remember if I
had left that door unlocked or not. I
usually locked it even though she was the only one with access, because I’m a
fraidy cat. What if the bad guys come
through her house, rob and kill her, and then decide to check out the basement
enough, it was locked.
get a screw driver and hammer and take it off the hinges,” said one of us. I think it was me because I remember being
the one to actually UNSUCCESSFULLY take it off the hinges.
since that didn’t work just use the hammer to break the lock.” I distinctly remember it being Chrystal who
came up with that idea.
about 20 minutes of the two of us taking turns trying to break the stupid lock,
which of course wouldn’t break because it was doing its job, we gave up.
door is not the sturdiest of doors. What
if we use the hammer to chop a hole right next to the door knob, and then reach
in and unlock the door.” Again, I credit
Chrystal with suggesting another brilliant plan.
chop we did. And we chopped some
more. We got a lot of aggression out on
that stinking door!
these doors are sturdier than they appear,” I said after another 10 minutes.
few minutes of chopping and we had a hole big enough to reach through only to
find out that, in our earlier attempt to break it, we had damaged the lock
beyond use. So locked it stayed.
stood there for a few minutes staring at all the wood chips on the floor with nothing
to show for it. It was then that
Chrystal decided to give it a shot with the hammer and screw driver to take the
door off the hinges.
came right off.
What?!?!? What had I done wrong? I have taken doors off hinges many times to
move large furniture in or out or to paint or something. What?!?!?
discussed if for a bit and decided it was because we were tired. And maybe also needed some therapy time to
hit, punch, yell, and destroy an inanimate object. Poor little door.
we rented the house from our church we thought the most Christian thing to do
would be to hide it and get someone else to come put in a new door before the
elder in charge found out. Which is what
we did. Unfortunately the elder in
charge was mowing our backyard when the chopped up door passed by. He laughed, shook his head and said he didn’t
dare ask what happened.
that is how my single sister and I solved the problem of being locked out. Would a husband have gotten it off the hinges
on the first try? Or would he have not forgotten
his key in the first place. Either way I
think our plan worked out just fine. I
got in didn’t I?
Question: Ever been locked out? Have better luck in getting in than we did?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0jpHtsSEQo Hillsong Version
6:33 is a Life verse for me: But seek
first HIS kingdom and HIS righteousness, and all these things will be given to
you as well.
words of Jesus are from the Sermon on the Mount. Leading up to this verse He is talking about
worry. I’m a worrier. Maybe that’s why I love this verse so
much. When I daily seek Him first, He
tells me everything else will fall into place.
So don’t worry.
I know that to be true, and I trust Him, then why do I have stomach issues,
break out into rashes and get fever blisters all stemming from worry? It’s that head knowledge-heart knowledge
Turn your eyes
Look full in His
And the things
of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of
His glory and grace
by step…one second at a time…start again…listen…trust…remember…pray…be
still…seek Him first…do it all again…
speaks to me through the “address” of this verse:
I get home from work and wonder what’s on tap for my evening and realize it’s 6:33, I think, “God wants me to spend some time with
Him.” 6:33 Seek HIM.
I’ve made a questionable choice and look at the clock and see that it’s 6:33, I
think, “Was that really the best way to handle that situation.” 6:33 Seek HIM
random times when I see the cost of something is $6.33 or an address is 633 or
my eye catches 633 in the middle of a set of numbers, I stop and remember His
promise. 6:33 Seek HIM
your eyes upon Jesus, seek His wonderful face, and He will provide. And what you thought was best for you will
grow strangely dim because, in the light of His glory and grace, His plans are
always better than what our earthly minds could come think of.
Question: Do you have things like my 633 where God catches your attention?
on a Margaret Becker kick. She was my
girl back in the late 80’s and 90’s. Now
I’m listening to her again. I really
hadn’t noticed until this go ‘round how much she sounds like the Wilson sisters
of Heart; a band I also liked in the 80’s.
But Heart’s “If Looks Could Kill You’d be Lying on the Floor” is a far
cry from Becker’s “Say the Name.”
Looks Could Kill” would have gotten me through a breakup or hard times back in
1988. But words like, “I was a sucker to
believe in you, a sucker for every line,” or “Love is on the line, I ain’t about to be kind,” have such a
negative ring to them, don’t ya think??
But I remember blaring that album, (you know, vinyl record albums) in my
cute little four-plex on Judge Ely Blvd. in Abilene, TX back in the day.
thankfully, I’ve progressed past the negativity! I can sit back and “Say the name that has heard my cry, has seen my tears and wiped them
dry,” and find a much more productive healing. Now, “Just
a whisper is enough to set my soul at ease.
Just thinking of this name brings my heart to peace.”
Several years ago, I was standing a few rows
behind an elderly woman while we were singing Natalie Grant’s song “Your Great
Name.” She was seated, but when we got
to the words, “The enemy, he has to leave, at the sound of Your Great Name,”
she struggled to a standing position. That
gesture of respect moved me to tears. “May I never grow so strong that my heart
cannot be moved. May I never grow so weak that I fear to speak the truth. I
will say this holy Name no matter who agrees. For no other name on earth means
so much to me.”
God exalted him to the highest place
gave him the name that is above every name,
10 that at the name of
Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue
acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
“From now until
the end of time, I’ll Say the Name.”
|Photo by Lois Flores
was recently asked if I could “Be Still” for a while and await an answer
regarding a job. I replied, “Well, I can
tell you it is part of Psalm 46:10 and the entire Psalm starts out with
telling us that God is our refuge and strength.
But to actually put it in to practice, nope, I can’t do that.” Fortunately my potential employer chuckled
along with me, also knowing that waiting isn’t easy.
you’re single, your income is it. You’re
not a supplemental income alongside your spouse’s to help with extra
expenses. You’re not a comparable amount
to be part of the monthly budget. You
I find that scary.
I find it an exciting opportunity to see how God will work things out.
still…and know that I am God…
I find it frustrating.
I find it a good way to trust God.
know that I am God…
I want to make a phone call and get things rolling.
I just want to sit at His feet and watch Him work.
know that I am God…
not just “knowing” that He is God. I
have to “let” Him be God. It’s the
difference between reciting Psalm 46 and believing it and trusting Him enough
to live it out.
joke around with friends and say, “This is the year I marry money!” My Portland to Coast team would like extra
money to buy a van, team T-shirts, a cushy hotel and massage in Seaside after
the race. But until I find that rich
husband it just isn’t going to happen.
But in reality, I have found someone…
found Him while I was being still enough to know
Him and then let Him be God.
my theme song for last summer…
became unemployed and homeless all in one weekend in the spring of
2013. So in June I found myself on a
plane headed for Tennessee to spend the summer with some good friends working
as their nanny. I also needed to clear
my head and figure out what was next.
drove around beautiful Franklin, Tennessee with its green cotton-ball trees,
Sidewalk Prophets’ song “Help Me Find It” always seemed to be on the radio
every time I needed it to be.
“I don’t know where to go from
here, it all used to seem so clear.”
”If there’s a road I should walk,
help me find it.”
And the comfort of…
step, I’ve never been alone.”
“Even when it hurts You’ll have Your way, even in the valley I will say, with
every breath You’ve never let me go.”
was alone in the car I would sing it at the top of my lungs! But one evening
the song came on while I was driving the girls to dance, or to eat, or to a
friend’s house or to something. I said,
“Oh, I LOVE this song. It’s my theme
song.” They asked me why, so I started
singing along with the words like I was telling them my story. When it got to the words “You’ve never failed
before” I had to turn my head and fight back tears, because He never has.
before that phrase are the words, “I will wait for You.” That’s the hard part!! But I’m learning to “Be Still and Know
(remember) that He is God.” These are not
new concepts for me. It’s just when you
find yourself in a difficult situation you learn them all over again.
months later I’m still a bit in limbo.
But, He’s never failed before!
That’s all I need to know. So
even though I don’t know where to go from here, I
will wait for Him. And He won’t fail me
this time either!
Friday night my friend Stacy and I were two wild and craaaazy single gals out on the town to hear our friend’s band play. They are called Opie and if you ever have a chance to hear them you should go. However, I hope you have a more pleasant experience than we had the other night.
When we walked into the bar we saw a couple exchanging saliva rather rigorously, so we steered clear of their table. It was somewhat difficult since it was smack dab in the middle of the floor. They didn’t seem to care that their tender moment of intimacy was being played out in front of everyone. I attributed that to all the empties on their table. And those made me wonder if they had just met.
Now being somewhat of a good girl (I say somewhat cuz I did have my twenties) I couldn’t help thinking this behavior was a bit, well, embarrassing; disgusting; crude; high schoolish; gross! Soon their make out session began to progress more into the realm of a lap dance. Having never really seen a lap dance before, I can only assume this was one. I can also see why a man would enjoy one. This man certainly was anyway.
He was quite a bit older than his lap buddy so I’m thinking she may have been playing out some Daddy issues; which is really pretty sad when you think about it. There were also some girls dancing in front of the band. I’m sorry, but there is just not enough alcohol in the world to get me to do the “drunk white girl dance” in front of a crowd.
After standing for quite a while and spilling my drink on my shoe we finally gave in and took the only two chairs left in the room. I say gave in because they were at the lap dancers’ table. There were three chairs and since they were only occupying one, we moved in. I thought if I just kept my gaze toward the stage I wouldn’t notice the X-rated action on my right. But it was really hard to not look. Like when you see an accident and you just can’t look away.
It was just amazing; arms were flying around and clothing was all askew. I can’t really tell you what her shirt looked like but I can describe her bra in detail. I was shocked they were behaving that way in front of everyone. But then again I don’t get out much.
She was in every position possible on his lap that there could be (or at least that my imagination could come up with). She was up, she was down, she was all around. She would do him in a house; she would do him with a mouse. She would do him in a box; she would do him with a fox.
We moved the table closer to us, not to give them more room, but to make it more apparent that we weren’t with them. At one point he was reaching for his beer and couldn’t find it, I assume because his eyes were otherwise occupied. I nicely slid the table over for him to grab his beverage. I’m nothing if not polite. After his refreshment he went back to business.
It was then that things really started to heat up. With the table further away, it gave her the leverage she apparently had been missing. She put her hands on the table and went to town. Somehow his arm came up under mine and it was then that Stacy and I grabbed our purses and joined the fans storming the stage.
I guess I am just too sheltered. And I’m okay with that. Other than the two of us no one seemed to give the lap dance couple a second thought. Or at least they didn’t stare like we did. I couldn’t get outside fast enough once the music was over. Ewwww.
I prefer my sheltered church girl life over public displays of lap dancing. But the music was good. Maybe I’ll just stick to their CD’s.
Question: My goodness, I can’t even come up with a question for a blog focused on lap dancing! Got any?