Dance FloorsMature

Dance Floors around the World. Significant and insignificant events. PLEASE JOIN IN HOOORAY !!!????:)))

I ring him and leave this voicemail. It's his daughter's first birthday:

Once, I remember getting angry on a dance floor in Niche, Sheffield. The reason was as I saw a cheeky bitch wearing the same dress as me. I was angry at my reflection in a mirror. I really thought someone else had bought the dress. I can remember that dress I think. It was a Morgan sixties type dress. A big white stripe down the middle. Black on the outside panels. A polo neck, sleeveless. Polyester fabric was a bit scratchy but it has to be that kind of material, to look sixties. My hair was almost at my waist, dyed very black. I deliberately stayed out of the sun to look pale, but I was still olivey. I was twenty and I bought some white fishnet tights to go with the dress that day. Sheffield was built on five hills like Rome, except no one had anything, unlike the wealthy Roman Church at least. We were so poor, that's all I can remember then. No fucking cash for anything except going out. That was always me. But I lived for those piano riffs and people saying ' where were you in 1989' before I'd walk off smirking. I couldn't quite live like them though. I needed an address and dresses. So me and you we just played at being ravers. The dress had a magical force. It made me think I was from another time. I could protect my body and my heart in it. No one could see my tits. I looked like a Star Trek girl, when Captain James T Kirk was in charge of the deck. I imagined myself talking to Spock, Solo. My nails were painted blue,a sea green blue. I'm trying to remember more about Niche, it was called Niche. The thing I always go back to, it was open tll midday or one on a Sunday. All nighters became common. There were sometimes fights but not often. Wicker Arches, Basics, we would be hand in hand always. You were a good boy, you didn't like to cane it like me in those days. I can't understand why I'm telling you this now. So many years on. There was hope then. But i didn't see it. It felt hopeless even then. But at least there was you. You saved me. I could never be picked up with you there. Sometimes people would try, but you would punch them if it went to far, or tell them where to go. You were six two and angry at what we didn't have. From the time that i met you, I was protected from all those dangerous men. The ones that, to my surprise even now, ask me to go to strange flats and get in cars with them, only sometimes now. But still, with you, I could go anywhere I wanted to go. We had each other. You, I think, didn't really like dancing like I do. You didn't really want to talk to John from Hull who came out in fancy dress again. You might not have liked buckets and scoring. Driving up to strange tower blocks in our little car. Scared of the police. Ears ringing as we drove home on come down. The paranoia as we listened to underground radio all of Sunday and sometimes Monday. I felt so close to you, we wouldn't speak too much. I would cling on to your chest in my room. Your jumpers were always so soft. I didn't think that I loved you. Told myself i would replace you, always told myself that. Why? Maybe then it wouldn't matter when you left. Those nights it felt like we really loved one another. Your hair was long and curled a lot. You were proud of your hair. And you were very proud of your clothes. We were going to achieve something. We'd get degrees and do this and that. And did I know how much I could earn, if I did this or that. You didn't have a car really. I used to lend you mine. It got dark early, as it always did. Before we went out, we'd go to town, on the bus. We walked around and you would buy me that night's dress. You had a pale green ralph lauren shirt. It was quite a thick cotton and you would iron it before we went out. Your jeans were always Armani or Versace. I'd left all my friends behind that only wore designer from school. They weren't clubbers like us with piercings and no responsibilities.I had some designer things, but I couldn't keep up with it all really. I wish I had, those friends were bright and wickedly funny. But I just wanted to be there with you. In that awful flat, with the bad mixing on the wordless radio. I would buy children's stickers. Bright colours triangles mostly stars. I'd stick one or two to usually my right eye. I had some 1970s cream flares. They earned their own name. ' The cricket trousers' . The cricket trousers saw a number of Dance Floors. 

Many years later, we were in Cannes, on the southern coast of France. The dance floor was exquisite. Brown wood had been moulded into massive dix. Those dice were everywhere that was the theme. There was a lot of filthy money around. Russian girls with Albanian much older men. There was a very handsome DJ and several blonde sexy film hotties. You bought me seven or eight Mojitos. Fifteen euros each. Probably by this point, most people thought we were rich. I don't know if we were rich. We spent every penny we ever got, I still do. We counted the Mojitos the next day as I lay in bed, crying a little. I felt so bad. Cannes is a beautiful place. You were unhappy. We still held hands everywhere we went. I still partied as much as anyone. But something was wrong. I didn't have a magical dress and you didn't love me anymore. You denied the last accusation. Of course you loved me. I'm your rock. I'm the one who supported you , making all this money. Except now life was on your terms. Did I know who that girl was  in the casino. It's Tara Reid. Your eyes light up. Did I know that that car is a green Ferrari and do I know how much it cost. This was all really good. But I missed you. You couldn't really wear a jumper in Cannes i know that. But you began to be dazzled by things that were not me. When I used to kiss you, you would act like you really never wanted me to stop. It used to feel as if I only ever needed you. I was the only thing you wanted to impress. No one else mattered. You didn't hit anyone anymore over me. We had to make our way out of all that and get the cash, I know, I know. But did we? Why couldn't we stay behind, when I was the little decorative orb of sun in a shitty city. Now the city was the city of light. We still danced and danced on beaches too, with rich people we didn't even know. Nothing was new, we always made friends when out, who doesn't? No dancing for the hell of it, in stupid star trek clothes anymore. Did we get old? Too old for camping in Winter, the tent was there to make sure we could save hotel money and afford to go.In the cold, I clung to you as usual, because you've always been the only thing that can make me feel safe. I was wearing all my clothes and a new hat you bought me from a market. A kid's hat, stripey yellow red and orange. You stared at me when I opened the present you wrapped up. I took the piss out of you for going red when you saw a dancer with a see through top on. When someone was setting fireworks off later on you decided it wasn't safe so you woke me up and put everything back in our little car. Thats when I loved you. You will never forget me I know that. Not really. You might want to but I am there in your memories too. I hope you cry too.

I forgot to tell you, that I got fatter too. So when I was on the dance floor in Cannes I didn't feel like a character from a film anymore. I think that is important. So I wasn't as valuable or as beautiful and that made life less  sweet too. Although for personal reasons I didn't mid too much, I'll tell you later about that, will you ring me back? I dunno.

Maybe you didn't really love the things I said and did, was any of it really that funny.Everyone probably throws icing sugar in the air when they bake. Everyone does the things we did I reckon.  You might've only loved the value of a very thin, young girl who didn't say much but clung onto your jumper as she kissed you every Saturday night and Sunday afternoon for all those years? If you were here, I know you would cry. Deny anything other than absolute love at that time. It was much much later that we fell out of love you'd say. But I could tell your heart had gone on that Dance Floor in Cannes.  





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