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New York, United States
Young at heart wife, Mommy (Yes my young adults still call me that!)Administrative Assistant, Kickboxer and Zumba fan...

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Back to the beginning...

The year was 1985, August 3rd to be exact and we were in the prime of our lives. My sister had just celebrated her 21st Birthday and this was the night we were going to "Party Like It's 1999". The heals were on, the make up and hair perfect and off we all went to meet for pre-disco drinks. We did still call them discos back then and not clubs. Fast forward a few hours and we were all very merry by this point and jumping in a taxi we headed for Cinderella Rockerfella Disco in St. Stephen's Street Edinburgh. This had been a haunt of ours for a long time. Prior to the name change it had been called Tiffany's and my girlfriends and I had frequented it since the late 70's. We had danced our way through disco, electronic, pop and new romantic music and loved every minute of it. We were nearly always the first on the dance floor and the last off!!! But I digress. So in we all go and find a booth that was near the dance floor but not too far from the bar. Out came the wallets and the "kitty" was replenished. A couple of us went to the bar and the drinking commenced. We danced, and danced some more...had a few sips of our drinks, had a smoke (yes, as I said in my previous blog, I was a smoker back then) and then headed back onto the dance floor. All of a sudden I hear this deep voice with an American accent asking me to dance. Now back then just someone actually ASKING you to dance was unusual in itself. Normally you got a tap on the shoulder and a jerk of the head. No words were ever exchanged unless they were really interested in you!! So I turn around to see this six feet tall American beefcake standing there. Now you would think the normal reaction would be to say "Yes" but not me. You see back then and in the UK we had a "thing" about Americans. I, of course being the nice person that I am, made up the excuse that my feet were hurting and that I needed to take a break and perhaps I would dance with him later on. Well, now knowing my husband as I do, he stared me down, watched me dance with nearly every other guy in the place and then came back again to ask me to dance. My thought process at this point was that I would never get rid of this guy unless I at least had a dance with him. So we danced and he escorted me back to the table and sat down beside me. Oh no...now I was in trouble, he wasn't leaving. OK, let me talk a little while with this guy who had introduced himself as Al. We chatted and he told me he was in the Navy and that he was stationed at Holy Lock but was on furlough for the weekend. We chatted a while and then the unexpected...he asked me to dinner the next night. What to do? He had already told me he was going back to base on Sunday and then would be leaving for a biking tour in Europe after that. Hey, what the heck. It was someone different to talk to and it wasn't like I was going to see him again...right? So dinner it was...Saturday at Eight. I gave him my phone number and we parted ways. The first thing out of my sister's mouth was "Who was the fat American?" Now my husband back then was almost eighty pounds lighter, but you have to understand I come from a country where most men are on average 5' 7" and weigh around 150lbs soaking wet. So in comparison to the men we were used to he was HUGE!!! I laughed and told her the situation. Free dinner...go for it, and it wasn't like you would see this guy again. After all he was going back to America.....To be continued. Blessings to you all until next time.

2 comments:

  1. What a great story! I loved reading it.

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  2. Thanks Jovigirl...glad you liked it. Look out for the next installment!! Blessings.

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