Re: Let the Dance Begin!
Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 7:41 pm
((James Claypoole continued from Irritating Thoughts))
James Claypoole was feeling pretty elegant. His leather shoes had been polished obsessively earlier that day and were gleaming with light reflected from the ballroom. His black pants were buckled up with a black belt, accompanied by a black shirt and tuxedo. Completing the set was a vibrant pink bow-tie, standing out defiantly from his otherwise monochromatic attire.
He was fairly embarrassed to find himself dateless; he had appearances to keep up, after all. Still, there was always the chance to hook up with someone at the prom itself.
He smiled to himself as the bouncy synths of Never Gonna Give You Up started playing through the speakers. It was good to know someone had a sense of humour. Making his way to the dance floor he began bobbing up and down in time with the music. As he reached the edge of the crowd of dancing students he really started getting into it, rhythmically throwing his arms about and surrendering his body to the power of cheesy 80's pop.
***
((Patrick Pennington continued from Le Cafe))
Patrick Pennington was regretting his decision to come to the prom. He had started awkwardly attempting to dance near the edge of the dance floor, but had soon stopped when he realised how stupid he looked. Then someone had the great idea to put that song on and everyone around him started acting as if this was the funniest thing to have happened in the past century. Fucking conformist sheep. I bet they're the sort of idiots who watch Adam Sandler movies whilst gorging themselves on Big Macs.
Then some black guy with a fucking ridiculous pink bow-tie on started flailing around right in front of him. Patrick found himself pretty amused by this for the few seconds before the guys arm swung in his direction and elbowed him in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned. "Hey asshole, watch where you're going!" he shouted out. The guy just fucking shrugged at him, before wandering a short distance away and carrying on with his dance.
Patrick had had enough. He briskly walked back to the entrance, pushing past people as he went. Stepping outside, he inhaled a deep breath of the cool air. He walked a little further from the entrance before withdrawing his tobacco and Rizlas from his pocket and rolling himself a cigarette. Drawing the smoke into his lungs, he observed the people still arriving and tried to come to a decision on whether he should leave.
James Claypoole was feeling pretty elegant. His leather shoes had been polished obsessively earlier that day and were gleaming with light reflected from the ballroom. His black pants were buckled up with a black belt, accompanied by a black shirt and tuxedo. Completing the set was a vibrant pink bow-tie, standing out defiantly from his otherwise monochromatic attire.
He was fairly embarrassed to find himself dateless; he had appearances to keep up, after all. Still, there was always the chance to hook up with someone at the prom itself.
He smiled to himself as the bouncy synths of Never Gonna Give You Up started playing through the speakers. It was good to know someone had a sense of humour. Making his way to the dance floor he began bobbing up and down in time with the music. As he reached the edge of the crowd of dancing students he really started getting into it, rhythmically throwing his arms about and surrendering his body to the power of cheesy 80's pop.
***
((Patrick Pennington continued from Le Cafe))
Patrick Pennington was regretting his decision to come to the prom. He had started awkwardly attempting to dance near the edge of the dance floor, but had soon stopped when he realised how stupid he looked. Then someone had the great idea to put that song on and everyone around him started acting as if this was the funniest thing to have happened in the past century. Fucking conformist sheep. I bet they're the sort of idiots who watch Adam Sandler movies whilst gorging themselves on Big Macs.
Then some black guy with a fucking ridiculous pink bow-tie on started flailing around right in front of him. Patrick found himself pretty amused by this for the few seconds before the guys arm swung in his direction and elbowed him in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned. "Hey asshole, watch where you're going!" he shouted out. The guy just fucking shrugged at him, before wandering a short distance away and carrying on with his dance.
Patrick had had enough. He briskly walked back to the entrance, pushing past people as he went. Stepping outside, he inhaled a deep breath of the cool air. He walked a little further from the entrance before withdrawing his tobacco and Rizlas from his pocket and rolling himself a cigarette. Drawing the smoke into his lungs, he observed the people still arriving and tried to come to a decision on whether he should leave.