After-party

I was the last to stay at a party. The last man dancing. What a win, I thought to myself. Plus, the girl with whom I danced for the last three songs whispered in my ear: “Can I use you tonight? Come to my place. I make the best tea.” When a woman invites you to her home at 4 a.m., you don’t reject it. Although you sometimes should, especially when it comes to enthusiastic Lindy Hop beginners. She’s been torturing me for the last 45 minutes to show her some figures and moves, explain to her how to follow this, how to do that... She didn’t even boil the water… I’m not sure if I’m going to get that tea at all.


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