If there’s one thing I could never confess it’s that I can’t dance a single step – Los Campesinos
At this coffee shop I’m inhabiting, I overhear two women in the corner, chatting with each other, me picking up only the words, “dancing,” “dancing,” as they watch some sort of video on an Apple laptop that I can only assume features someone, possibly them, dancing. They aren’t talking obnoxiously loud or playing their video at a high volume. No, they are not weirdos. I am. I am clearly eavesdropping like the creepity-creepster that I apparently am. But I creeped (crept?) for a reason, and that is because I was just starting to write this blog that is purely about dancing. Continue reading
The Brew House 