Dancing Alone

On stage, I'm another person: uninhibited, free, fun, and flirty. I slide my hands down seductively against my corset, I turnaround and bend down, ass in the air to the audience. The lights go down and the music ends. Breathless, I move off stage. 

Off stage, I'm quiet, composed, and maybe even a bit reserved. I sit across the table from this guy with Buddy Holly-like thick black rimmed glasses and gelled hair. He's cutting his chicken awfully proper. I feel a bit uncouth as I eat my juicy New York Strip steak. It's so juicy a little trickle of juice slides down from the corner of my mouth. I quickly wipe it away with my napkin, then quickly place my napkin back in my lap.

"So there I was, leading the acquisition of the merger of this company called Diamond Reef. We're hoping that we outpace out competitors with this move," he says and continues to cut his chicken filet in bite sized pieces.

"Wow, is that so?" I almost mumble. Is he even hearing what I'm saying?

"We should be able to close this deal by Friday." He laughs. His laugh sounds haughty and condescending, like he is deliberately implying, I'm doing this big, cool thing; what are you doing?

I stop eating. Gulp down the rest of my red wine, and say, "Hey, thanks so much for this time to get to know you, but I don't want to anymore." I drop my fork and it clanks on the gold rimmed dish. I gather my coat and purse and hustle away from table, away from this jackass.

(Pray)