Back in R-Town

Arrived back home about a quarter after 10 tonight. Watching the sun set in the wake of the ferry was as awesome as I’d hoped. Initially I was disappointed when it slipped completely behind a cloudbank. A few minutes later I looked up from my book, and there it was, just the thinnest of vivid scarlet lines between the clouds and the horizon. Just beautiful.

I awoke later than I’d hoped this morning. Then again, I stayed out later than I’d planned. The IAC dance was the most fun I’ve had in years!

I’d gotten used to the usual welcome volunteers for the convention, and at the dance it was no exception. Despite the fact you could hear the thumpa-thumpa from two floors away, there were two or three people at each entrance, escalator and turn along the way, smiling, shaking hands and always with a word or two, “Welcome!” “Hi Bruce!” “Glad you could make it!”

Balloons lined the dance floor, and hung from the light show trusses. The floor was absolutely packed in the same way you exect in a gay bar, but without that undertone of darkness and desperation (and puking in the men’s room). No one cared if they met Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now. The boys were there to PARTY!

I took a quick lap of the room, spotted a wallflower and said, “C’mon! Let’s dance!”

“Oh, I haven’t danced in years—long before I got sober. I suck at dancing.”

Refusing to take no for an answer, I replied, “It’s just like the rest of AA. Get right in the middle and everyone’s happy you’re there. By the way, I dance like a straight white guy. I’m not sure which is worse, the white guy part or the straight guy part.”

He laughed and we went right out to the middle of the floor and sang and screamed and danced like idiots.

Three-and-a-half hours, six bottles of water and three (former wallflower) dance partners later, I put my sweat-soaked shirt back on, ran the gaunlet of volunteers (“Good night!”, “Glad you had fun!”) and limped to the subway while working the tangles out from my hair.

Playing in my head wasn’t a single tune I’d heard all night, but one of those stupid AA slogans, “Happy, joyous and free!”

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