Last Friday was my husband”s annual office party. I can share this occasion with you because it was actually very enjoyable! Over the years the saving grace has been the company booking us into hotels so, when the music gets too loud and I give up trying to lip read and be sociable, I can always make a subtle exit!
So Friday was probably the 10th or 11th office party I had attended. Another unpleasant shopping experience (already shared) and another mooch around the hotel room killing time while my husband met his colleagues in one of the board rooms for their annual meeting.
But, this year, the meal was excellent and the company on either side of me very amenable. The music was kept to a sensible level while we worked our way through three delicious courses. Wine and champagne flowed.
Finally, the meal over, the music volume increased and chairs were scraped back from tables. I needed to build up my step count so dragged my husband onto the dance floor. I had forced my feet into seriously high heels and had to really concentrate on keeping my balance and not making a spectacle of myself!
When I felt the familiar vibrations on my wrist that the ten thousand steps goal had been reached that was my cue to leave the dance floor and rest my aching feet! I followed my husband around a few tables, met new colleagues and finally sat down and loosened my shoes.
It was then, out of the corner of my eye, that I caught sight of the coolest young man I have ever seen on a dance floor. Last year I had been so impressed by his expertise that I had told him how amazing he was, much to my husband’s obvious embarrassment! A few glasses of wine and my ‘out load voice’ takes over. My tongue becomes very loose and I morph into a gushing ‘luvvie’, heaping praise on poor unsuspecting victims!
I saw him walking towards me but never expected what was going to happen next! He came up to me, held out his hand and asked me for or a dance. My immediate reaction was to make some trivial excuse about my sore feet. How could I possibly dance with a real live John Travolta? But, biting the bullet, I adjusted my shoes and allowed myself to be led onto the dance floor. He proceeded to guide me, with both hands, spinning me round, first this way, then that, expertly catching me in mid-slip! He made it so easy! As I realised that I wasn’t going to fall, I began to enjoy the whole experience!
I was soon adding my own fancy steps, swinging my hips to the beat, holding tightly to both his hands and even singing loudly to some of the songs! I am seriously cringing as I write this! I imagined my husband turning various shades of green and young girls wondering why this amazing cool dude wasn’t dancing with them! I am such a ‘light weight’ when it comes to alcohol! All I need is a couple of glasses of wine, a good atmosphere, a mesmerising dance partner and I am transported into a fantasy world!
My dance with John Travolta was the first thing I remembered when the alarm woke me on Saturday morning. I had stumbled off the dance floor, my feet barely able to get me back to my table. My husband was still chatting to a colleague and I was to learn, later, as we made our way very slowly to our room, that he hadn’t even seen me dancing!
So, another year is drawing to a close. That will probably be our last office party. My chances of ever dancing with John Travolta again are highly unlikely! I must hasten to add that I won’t lose any sleep over this! It’s probably worked in my favour that my husband didn’t see my performance on the dance floor. I’d never have lived it down!👠
Jenny Burrell 