Chivalry Isn't Dead?!

Ooh, yes, it was. I went to Ceroc as usual. Flick's been visiting for the last two weeks, so we've been out dancing Ceroc in Cambridge on Mondays and Wednesdays. It's been absolutely BRILLIANT. Flick's brilliant! I love dancing and the company just made it that much better! She and I are a pretty good match 'cuz we're both so easy going and mellow and we think the same way. Scary thought but it's true; we keep saying each others' thoughts. Skirts, shoes, men, you name it! Why is she still single?! Damn you, Chris, damn you.

Anyway, we've met a lot of people since going last Monday. Notably, two guys named Nick. (Figures.) Yes, they're both called Nick. How confusing is that?? We first met Nick on Monday when he caught both of our eyes. (So sue us; we're female.) On Wednesday, we met his friends Nick and Charlie. Now to keep the Nicks apart, Flick and I dubbed the second Nick 'Posh Nick' at first because he sounds a bit posh when he speaks.

So there's Nick and Posh Nick, or Raven and Niko as we found out last night. Charlie doesn't count because we haven't seen him since last Wednesday. Nick said something about a wife (his or someone else's?) and visiting..or something like that. I was slightly distracted and wasn't paying too much attention. Kekeke. They've kind of been monopolising us since Wednesday but I don't mind. Both Nicks are pretty good dancers actually considering they're male, heterosexual and under 40. (As of yet, the only good male dancers that I've met are either gay, over 40 or a celebrity, like Usher and JT.) Nick's better than Niko but then, he's been doing this for almost 3 months now. What's better than a man in uniform or a suit? A man who can dance! Woot! Funnily enough, they're both in the army.

Now, I must digress a bit. A lot of books I read are set in the English Regency period (1811-1820) and during that time, men weren't allowed to dance more than one dance with a lady unless he was 'interested' in her. It was not bon ton (scroll to the very bottom), Society's matrons looked down upon it, and it would set the gossipmongers' tongues wagging. I've been thinking about this ever since last Wednesday when I danced through two songs straight with Nick. We were doing a 'routine' - the beginners' lesson twined with the intermediates' lesson - and had finally gotten it down at the end of the first song. We were on a roll so we danced through the second song as well (it was a good song, too). This happened again, several times, on Monday and last night, we actually danced through three songs straight at one point. That was pure cardio, lemme tell ya. Dance is an endurance sport. *Wheeze* 'Be still my beating heart' took on a whole new meaning as I sat on the side counting my pulse.

Oh yeah, and he called me 'legendary'. Legendary. I always say that flattery gets you nowhere but then, I've never been called legendary before. It's kind of funny actually. After our 3-song dance, he joked that if we kept this up, pretty soon we'll be legendary. He danced with Flick after sitting out on the next song, commenting to her that he and I had mastered (his) 'routine' and Flick said, 'Oh, showing off eh?' He replied, 'No, it's all Jessie. She's legendary.' Say what?! That's what Flick reported!

We made a new friend last night as well. Her name's Ros (short for Rosalind) and she's a dress and wedding gown maker. How cool is that?! She's friends with the Nicks and has been dancing (including jazz, tap and ballet) for 6 years. She's very good. I love watching the really good dancers.

We went to the pub across the road after dance last night. The Cambridge Ceroc venue is on Mill Road right next to the River Camb so we took our drinks outside to the bridge. It was a gorgeous night out with the rain, lightning and thunder having passed already. The bridge was made for sitting on and I said to Ros that it was a bit damp but oh well. Then the most extraordinary thing happened. Nick said, 'You can sit on my coat,' and lays it out on the bridge! My jaw dropped (and believe me, I am hardly ever struck speechless). That's, like, the equivalent of laying your coat across a puddle for a lady to step across! Men like that don't exist in this day and age! Oh, wow. I said, 'Oh no, I can't sit on your coat! It's leather and could ruin it!' He insisted so thanks to him, my bum stayed dry. Yay. It was the perfect ending to that day. (Except the pub served Pepsi instead of Coke. Darn you.)

Lastly, I really should invest in a pretty hand-held fan...