The Rehearsal Dance

07/2004

Behind every good woman is a good gay man.

I have mine. His name is Fred. He’s tall and handsome and he accompanies me around town on occasion. One of the many things I love about him is knowing that he will never grab my breasts at the intersection of Main and Palm.

We can exist together as man and woman without sex and the complications that lie therein. But knowing the possibility of sex is lurking somewhere in my future, I began thinking about Fred.

I asked for his help. I asked him to help me choreograph a dance.

He said yes, especially when he discovered what kind of dance I was looking forward to learning.

You see, I wanted to add something new to my life. The next time I fall deeply in love, I want to be able to give my Sweetheart something I’ve never given any man before – one great dance designed simply for his amusement.

All I said to Fred was, “I want heels, a chair and a scarf.” His eyes lit up and he was off and running.

We began rehearsals right away and I must say I’ve never been so happy about Fred’s gayness. There’s nothing worse than looking dorky while trying to look sexy but let’s face it, trying to look sexy can all too easily end up looking drunk, or looking silly, or looking raunchy, especially in the hands (or feet) of an amateur, but Fred eased me through the pitfalls and helped me nail the routine.

He perfected my moves and I am now in possession of one hot hot hot number. It should be illegal to carry this thing around. I can’t wait to meet the lucky devil in my future and I know he can’t wait to meet me. Poor guy, he has no idea what he’s in for. But Fred sure does.

I met Fred recently at Sarasota News & Books. We caught up, swapped cat stories and laughed about how we’d both gone from hating cats to loving them. I’m still reluctant to admit I’m a catperson and Fred urged me to come clean. We had a whole “come out of the cat closet” conversation. He won.

Finally, he asked about the dance. I silently smiled.

We finished up and Fred and I crossed Main and Palm. He had some fresh almonds he offered to share. Although we’ve never spoken about it, I suppose Fred enjoys knowing I will never grab his nuts.