Late nite New York wandering lead me to a super-hyped club scene - I wrote this consideration of dancefloor politics.
thump bump shake it shake it black clad booties and tight tops sway and swiggle. a pair of blonde eyes meets his. jostled from the side, leaning way, he sees brawn bearing past. back to blonde eyes, detained now elsewhere. shucks, and shake it, harder now, pump those hands up, bring them down, hips two three four and again step together step.a siren, the music shifts - slow rolling rebeats and dub dancing the crowd thins, shuffles between styles two slides, and four person closer to a blonde contacted soon sighted again, but now less willing. now two friends sight and inspect the lad, approval or - not registered - too quick to turn awayso he shakes, a bit, a wit - chest and arms flail and flow in double, triple time feels trance take him and spin - jostle, two, and toe step - now calm as frenzy 'fringed on adjacents. looks up again as blonde looks down an opening and he's in, he going for the play, its quiet on the feild as the players take their positions, he's lined up in the backfeild, there's no blockers between them - but before a face-forward/side view afforded a distant flirt, now becomes the restrained booty shake and swivel back turnedhe watches the mop move, not vigorously enough perhaps, and are those hips a preview? no view but custodians - homlier friends look out and over him, warning and watching as the prize dances objected between them. no further face forward contact, furtive glances to the side yeild no pleasure of pursuit, or chance at conversation. he dances, alluding to her rhythms, unresponded, he dances to his own, finds perhaps interest rekindled, or in this case, outward migration of the targeted parties.