Billy Idol released "Dancing With Myself" in 1982. It was a great, rough around the edges new wavy rock tune. Every Thursday night at the now deceased Rendezvous Inn just off the University of Maryland campus in College Park (known simply as the "Vous" to the Terp faithful), girls took to the tables with a plastic cups of fifty cent beers in thir hands and rocked out to "Dancing with Myself". Even now, more than 25 years later, I can recall clearly looking up at a particularly curvy little thing from Jersey in some low rise jeans, her "vous shoes" and - - - anyway, I veered off track...
Why you ask, did Billy and his across the pond Brit rock anthem come to mind? A bit odd, actually. I spent Friday night at a neighbor's 50th birthday party down the street. You know the drill - lots of food, beer, big tent out back, bar on the deck and big ol' speakers blaring somebody's favorite mix of rock, old disco and a way too early in the evening spin of Barry White. The tequila was clearly purchased by the uninformed - Jose Cuervo and uh - - - Jose Cuervo. No me gusta.
Without any real tequila, I was fully prepared to spend the evening sipping from a cold longneck Bud and with the hope of catching the lovely Julia after the party in the right white wine induced frame of mind, if you get my drift. Overly optimistic? I'll never tell.
As if sent by an agave angel, some guy showed up about an hour or so in with a bottle of Milagro Reposado. Ca-ching!
Dont get me wrong, the Milagro is no top of the line tequila. What you do get for a very reasonable price is a nice, refreshing and sweet sipping tequila that makes for a quality sidecar to a cold and sweaty bottle of Bud.
So at that point, the world was again spinning in the right direction. A cool night, comfortable spot on the rail of the birthday boy's deck, couple of cocktails and yakking it up with dependable guy's guy, my neighbor Philly Walt. And then i saw him. Pasty guy. White shorts, way too short, red Under Armour golf shirt and flip flops. Dancing - - - - with himself. Bad news, Bonzo. There is simply nothing good that can come of a guy who dances with himself - under any circumstances.
"...Well there's nothing to lose and there's nothing to prove and I'm dancing with myself - oh, oh, oh..." Cool lyrics. Cool song. Real life, not so much.
Rebel yell, anyone?
