my friend dragged me out to see a cover band at the local hotel. he walked in late, wearing a bright pink wig, and went straight to the dance floor, while i continued to pound beers on the sideline, getting a good laugh out of his wild antics.
the band broke into a talking heads song and i reluctantly followed my friend out on the floor where we preceded to sandwich-dance the pink-haired boy until last call.
he didn't ask for my number and i went home a little disappointed about it. but the next morning he called and asked me out for the next weekend.
and that was that.