I was emailing my friend who is in Spain right now, and I was telling her about what happened to me in Spain...back in the 1990s....I can't believe I'm writing this. I have no shame.
My most embarrassing certainly pales in comparison to my husband's most embarrassing moment...his is legendary. But, that's for him to tell, not me!
Anyways, when I was in 11th grade, I went to Spain for 5 weeks with my Spanish class. I spent one of those weeks with a horrible host sister. That sounds so mean to say, but the girl just used me to get out of the house so she could meet up with her boyfriend. Anyways, one night I was so tired of being her "third wheel", that I decided to get all dressed up in my 90s "hot-to-trot fashion ware. I thought it was time I needed to explore my dance moves. So, with my new Spanish shirt and skirt on, I went to the local Disco (I know, what's with the name - I mean it wasn't the 70s).
I have to preface this with the sad fact that other than cutting loose in my sisters' rooms, I had never actually danced in public. I'm the type of girl who hides in bathrooms when wedding reception guests try to get EVERYONE involved in getting on the dance floor. (Oh, yes, I've hidden in a bathroom before...maybe it's because of this horrific "dance" story)
To further emphasize the fact that I was SO dance-illiterate, I went to a Christian school, where there was really no school dance opportunities. No, I had no slick dance moves. But, here I was in a foreign country...why not? So, I got my groove on, and then...it was like the spotlight was pointed directly at me and I was the center of attention on that Disco dance floor. I started to think,
"Where did this secret talent come from? I'm awesome at dancing!"
I kid you not, a crowd started forming around me and people started pointing...at ME! Wow! But, when my head was about to swell to the point that I could have filled the entire dance floor with my huge ego, my American friend whispered in my ear,
"Wanda, look down...your underwear is glowing through your skirt!"
I dashed out of that disco as fast as I could and found the nearest pay phone (okay, that dates me) and cried to my mom. Poor Mom and Dad...it was probably like 3 am in the States! Oh, the memories!
Hoping my friend isn't experiencing any "glowing underwear" moments.
Hope your memories don't involve GLOWING underwear! Good Luck, Kirs!
Hope your memories don't involve GLOWING underwear! Good Luck, Kirs!
GREAT story, Wanda!!!
ReplyDeleteMy only question is: Was the underwear purchased at Harry Goods OR Vicky's Secret?? It could be the determining factor as wether the attention was of an admirable or flabbergasted quality. ;)
Love to you, you little Dancing Queen vixen.
(My first all-out dance moves were showcased in Colorado-out of state, naturally-at my Uncle Ben's wedding reception, which I might add-was very crowded and very dark.
I haven't danced in ages b.c. of all my surgeries and situations..now you got me into the "groove"... but the opportunity would only better if you came to NYC and you give it another shot! :p
ReplyDeleteWe all have our stories Wanda. Love this one! The fun part of it all is that someday you might be getting a call from one of yours the real early morning hours. This brought a smile for me today. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteha ha this story cracked me up. maybe we can have some dance parties next year when we are going to be down the hall from each other EVERY DAY! I cam hardly wait. And I'm not going to let you hide in the bathroom!
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