Photo by Mel Traxel – © 1978 Mel Traxel

Many of you know the last dance I had on a ship turned out to be the last dance I ever had with my husband.  He died some eight months later. I wrote about it here, Save the Last Dance. It was an incredibly wonderful moment to have tucked away about us in my memory.  

In some ways this makes it more difficult to write about what would be a whole different kind of dance, the first dance with another man.

I looked forward to being able to dance, gliding around the room with a man who had the moves and the desire to make me his Ginger to his Fred.  I would daydream about the night being another New Year’s Eve with another wonderful evening gown and another man dressed in a formal tuxedo who would sweep me into his arms.  We would sway and skim the dance floor in a melody of the future yet to come.  His arm would confidently reach for my waist, our eyes locked in an impossibly romantic gaze as he leads me around the room under the soft glow of the lights.  All the while the music was building an invisible wall between us and the other people at their tables mesmerized by the flowing silk and graceful moves we made.  

And then the reality.  Yes, he was dressed handsomely in a tuxedo and I in a flowing navy blue silk dress with flutter sleeves and ruching at the waist.  Yes, we were in a dark nightclub aboard a ship listening to some second rate singers. Yes, it was New Year’s Eve and he knew exactly how long I had been dreaming of this night, this experience.  We were feeling giddy having consumed champagne with our dinner.  We joked and laughed as we thought about doing some dance moves pretending we were Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters in our favorite movie, “The Jerk”.  It seemed like perfect timing to stir the pot...the club goers were all so serious and dull.

The right song came on, we giggled as he stood and held out his hand to help me up. There was nobody else on the dance floor, it would be perfect.  I stood and took my hand and placed it in his warm hand.  He closed it around me as I securely spun onto the floor.  We stood close to each other for what seemed an eternity when suddenly the beat changed to the music and he began to lean back both hands gesturing to the heavens, poking and inferring the very same Steve Martin moves.  I wanted not to laugh but I could not help myself.  It began and I could no longer contain it...or my bladder.  The laughter caught in my throat as I realized that beneath the flowing blue silk gown a tiny drop was racing its way down my leg to the dance floor below.  Instantly I cursed the lace thong I had slipped on so sexily...just as he grabbed me and spun me around.  At that moment the horror of seeing a puddle beneath me swept across my face.  The planks of wood begin to warp in my mind.  He was caught in the whacky dance mode, oblivious to the scenario.  

"We have to go.  NOW."  I stage whispered to him.  I secured his hand and led him off of the floor...half running half trying to stop the trickle.  

"Whaaa..."  he said as I whisked him down the hall.  

"I'm sorry, but I had to get off of the dance floor."  I said as I pushed my way past the Ladies Room door in my haste, leaving him alone in the hall.

"Okay baby."  He smiled. 

When I emerged the dance moment had passed, but he understood,  "I will never forget the moment you realized you had to...uh... go.  It was so endearing."