The Adventures of the Rusty Goat - The First Adventures

To Dance or Not to Dance

To Dance Or Not To Dance

I've had itchy feet lately. I love to dance and fear I'm getting somewhat rusty. And I've been living like the Pope for two months. 'Bought tired of that nonsense...

Saturday's come and a decision has to be made. I know sooner or later I'll dust off my black hat, put on my dancing boots and head to the city to dance with the pretty girls. My decision has not come easily. My biggest fear is 'HER', the one I am currently single from. My lawyer told me when I filed for the divorce that I should 'live like the Pope', that is 'keep my ass out of hot water' till this thing is a done deal. 'SHE' could quite possibly be there. 'THAT' would not be a good thing. Nevertheless, I coasted through my Saturday pondering the idea. When the clock on the wall chimed seven times this evening, I still hadn't made up my mind. I think I had been waiting for a gut feeling...a sign that told me not to go. I had not gotten my sign by seven, so I headed to the bathroom to shave and shower. Just as I turned the water on, my phone rang. It was the most important woman in my life, my ten year old daughter, calling to check up on me. We chatted about her weekend and her life in general for thirty minutes or so. Glancing at the clock as I hung the phone up, I knew I was now running late. I showered and shaved and while dressing, realized I had not eaten anything since eight this morning. I quickly decided I'd stop by the KFC and have some fried chicken on my way out of town.

I walked into the empty chicken place and stepped up to the counter. A short Hispanic fella steps around the corner from the back to take my order. I ordered the Breast and Wing meal, then asked if I could have two breast instead of a wing. He nodded and punched numerous buttons on the screen in front of him, then in a thick Hispanic accent, told me the total was $9.85.

"Ten bucks for chicken?" I exclaimed. "Hells bells, I can buy a whole herd of chickens for that price. Why, I can drive up to the city and eat steak at the Texas Roadhouse for that!"

He shrugged and paused, waiting to see if I was indeed going to the city. I reluctantly pulled out my debit card and handed it to him. I noticed he wobbled slightly as he swiped the card, then paused and swiped it three more times, then giggled to himself and turned the card over. He's drunker than Cooter Brown, I thought to myself as I took a seat. Shortly,I heard loud shouting in Spanish coming from the kitchen and a thick, greasy smoke filled the whole place. The little fella came over to my table and said,"We burned the sheekin. It will be a few minutes more." Well, as pressed for time as I was, I sure wasn't going to eat burned chicken that cost ten bucks. Eventually my meal arrived and I gobbled it down. It was now eight fifteen. I drove across town to the bank for some cash. It had been almost seven years since I used the ATM. Back when I was dancing every Saturday night, I always took forty bucks with me. Never drank more than two beers, and tried not to buy too many for the girls, unless things looked promising. I stuck my card into the slot and went through to rig-a-ma-roll of punching all the necessary buttons. My card shot back out and the screen flashed, 'Thank you for your business,' but there was no money. Ah heck, what do you do in a situation like that. Well, foolishly I stuck the card in and tried it all over again. It shot the card back out and still no money. I looked at the screen closer. (There's a story about me not wearing my reading glasses somewhere around here.) and it said, 'Your transaction cannot be completed at this time' and below it 'Thank you for your business.' I shook my head. The only bank in town and it has no money. Still determined to dance, I decided I'd just have to use the ATM at the bar, even though I could buy a beer or two with the fee it would charge me. I pulled across the street to the convenience store for some gas. The pump I pulled up to had a yellow bag on the nozzle so I pulled around to the next one. It had a bag on it too. I sighed and wondered how they could actually run out of gas. It's $3.59 a gallon! I drove to the other side of town to the Fina and began to fill up. As I waited, I glanced across the street at the restaurant where this pretty little gal works. I try to eat there every Friday night. There's a story I'll tell you someday, but time is wasting and I was bound to dance. As I pulled onto the highway, I noticed I had forgotten to put my dancing boots on. I'd have to go back out to the house, which was on the way in a round about sorta way. I jumped out of the truck, ran to the door, ran back to the truck to get my keys, and heard a rumble of thunder. I looked to the west and saw a large bank of thunderclouds coming in. I sat down on the step of the patio and watched the lightening, smoking a cigarette. Old Mama Cat came up and rubbed my arm, wanting some attention. I rubbed her head and said, "I know Mama. I need some attention too." I thought about the dancing thing as I watched the clouds draw nearer. The music, the lights, the pretty girls. I thought a little deeper. In the past I was always able to find someone to hold for a dance or two, but never much longer. Besides, I'm fifty something and it's nine twenty. I went inside and changed back into my comfortable clothes.

After the rain passed, I stepped back out and sat on the patio step. Two toads hopped around in the water puddles catching June Bugs. A June bug landed right on top of one of the toad's head and just sat there, the toad crossing his eyes as he eyed the bug on his head. I laughed and said out loud to no one, "I bet the Pope never saw a toad with a June bug sittin' on his head. If I'd gone dancing, I'd have missed that!"