On Friday night I went, with Vincent and Rodrigo from work, to club Pyms in Rennes. Pyms puts on partner dancing once a month: Salsa downstairs and some Rock and Swing upstairs. The upstairs room was very empty and the DJ put on some dreary old R&B record and, as far as I can tell, buggered off downstairs to dance Salsa for half an hour. When the music started to liven up again I was keen to dance with one of the few remaining Lindy follows who had not gone home already. I might have overdone it a bit…
The floor was slippery, we already knew that, I’d slipped over during my first dance with Matilda.
“That was great”, said Rodrigo, “It’s a real shame I left my camera in the cloakroom; I wanted to have a photo of you on the floor”
Vincent said he’d seen someone else hit the floor. You can see where this is leading, can’t you? It happened a second time, but much worse:
J’ai glissÃ©, Je suis tombÃ© par terre.
The floor came up and hit me.
I measured my length.
I hit the the ground chin first.
Vincent took me to the emergency room.
I have four stitches hidden in the beard!