Though intimidated when she danced so well with men who knew how to partner dance, her elusiveness made her even more attractive. But this time around, I took on the affect of the Marlboro Man smoking his cigarette leaning against the barn. I would show her that I was a real man. I coolly watched her from afar, but only out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t want her to think that I was still interested in her. I didn’t want her to think I couldn’t control myself around her. I didn’t want her to reject me again.
The only problem was that being a real man required me to spend considerable amounts of time leaning against the barn taking slow drags, which stiffened my posture and limited my dancing to a few cool-looking moves. I hardly engaged my regular dance partners. It didn’t feel good and it certainly wasn’t fun. Most disconcerting was watching her out of the corner of my eye. Not only was she unaffected by me, but she seemed totally unaware of me. And, she seemed to be having the time of her life.
I suppose I could be proud of learning to protect myself from rejection. I also suppose I could be pleased that I had no wounds to nurse. Yet being well defended prevented me from enjoying myself around her. After all, I reasoned, demonstrating that I’m having a good time would certainly make me more attractive to her.
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