
Conversation With an Idiot
Inside a noggin: A discussion about dancing
Q: So what is your favorite song?
A: I have a million favorite songs but at this particular moment it is, “Just Waitin’ On a Friend” by the Rolling Stones.
Q: Why?
A: Because of the saxophone.
Q: How can you mend a broken heart?
A: How can you stop the rain from falling down?
Q: What relationship that you’ve had would you want to resurrect?
A: None. They all served their purpose.
Q: Which relationship would you want to resuscitate?
A: Every single one of them.
Q: Of all those women, which one would you now choose to dance with?
A: Ooh, that’s a tough question.
Q: Which one?
A: I don’t know. Maybe Vanessa or Debbie.
Q: Why?
A: Because they were the best dancers. They made me dance better. These were the only two women I ever managed to clear the dance floor with. They were the two who managed to unleash my inner dancer.
Q: Your inner dancer?
A: Yeah. I have an inner dancer and let me say that that inner dancer is lost somewhere. I haven’t encountered him in a couple of decades.
Q: Do you ever dance alone?
A: Almost never. I have to be really, really fucked up.
Q: What is the worst dance you’ve ever danced in your life?
A: The dance with my daughter at her wedding. As I held her hand and held her shoulder I suddenly turned into a complete idiot. I moved like someone coming out of a coma. I was more nervous than any time I have ever danced with a female. My body became almost epileptic. It was the worst dancing I’ve ever done in my life. Back when she was a little itty bitty girl we danced together all the time. But I hadn’t danced with her in years and then suddenly after she just got married it was really weird and sad.
Q: And what was the best dance you ever had?
A: That was with Debbie. We fucking cleared the goddam dance floor! Seriously! Everyone stepped off the dance floor while we did the moves we had practiced for weeks. We fucking kicked ass. We were like a scene from a fucking movie. It was like having sex right there in front of everybody. We never missed a move. That dance is forever etched into the skein of time and space.
Q: Really?
A: Fuck yeah! I haven’t seen her in over forty years but I guaran-freaking-tee you that she remembers it. There is no way I can forget it. It was the absolute epitome of dancing in my whole life.
Q: And you think it was her’s, too?
A: Uh… I certainly hope it was. But, of course, I don’t know what happened after that.
Q: So when was the last time you danced?
A: Uh, well, er, uh, I guess it was at my daughter’s wedding.
Q: And how long ago was that?
A: Uh, I… I guess… I think it was about twelve or thirteen or fourteen years ago.
Q: Seriously? You’ve never danced since then?
A: No.
Q: Boy, you really are fucked up.
A: Yeah. And so?
Q: Didn’t it ever occur to you that you will never get un-fucked until you dance again?
A: You know, that never occurred to me.
Q: Of course it didn’t. Your problem is that you hide from every dance floor. You enclose your body and your mind and your spirit in a dark and soundless room where dancing cannot be seen nor felt. You hide behind a wall of non-communication, a wall of non-feeling, a wall of non-surrender. You are, if you will excuse my vernacular, a stick in the fucking mud!
A: Oh gee, golly. Thank you for you encouragement. Thanks for your support. Remind me again who the hell you are?
Q: I am the one you are forcefully trying to drown in that mud. I am the one who has been trying for decades to wake up your sorry ass to all the joy that you could be experiencing if only you weren’t wallowing in your own crapulence.
A: You realize that ‘crapulence’ isn’t even a word.
Q: Yeah, the Medium editor just told me that.
A: So let’s talk about what your fucking problems are.
Q: My problems? I don’t have problems. I’m the one who points out your problems to you.
A: Really? Why don’t I get to point out your problems?
Q: Because that is just avoidance of your own problems which is what we have always dealt with together. So are you going to listen to me, or what?
A: No, I’m tired of listening to you. I’m putting on my headphones.
Q: No! You can’t do that! You’ll just be avoiding my words of wisdom.
A: Exactly.
Q: But, but, that won’t get you anywhere.
A: I’ve been listening to you for half a century and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere.
Q: Oh yeah? That really hurts. Do you really think you can proceed without me? Do you really think you can find happiness and love without me? Do you really think that you can get anywhere without me?
A: I’ve got my headphones on. I didn’t hear a word you just said. Fuck off dude! I’m listening to Coldplay now. I may just be sitting here but I’m dancing in my head. I’m moving and I’m swaying and I’m feeling the music. It feels a lot better than all the shit that you’ve been saying. I can dance again and I don’t need you!
Q began yelling at A but A had his headphones on and couldn’t hear a word Q was yelling. He was listening to a totally different song.
Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Writings of White Feather
Speaking of music and dancing…
