You know, as I sit here, and the excitement has worn off, I'm thinking... this is a competition for you. As much as I'd love to dance with you...I don't want to drag you down.
Extremely, but to be honest tango isn't something I expect to win at sugar. My practice is swing, the more classical ballroom is more than rusty.
I never pity fuck, or dance. I'm far too proud to be seen in the company of anyone I might pity.
As for your paranoia, sugar, even if we both suck- we'll still be the best looking couple on the floor. But if you ain't feeling up to it because of your friend, I understand.
Me? I love the tango. There's this one song, the version playing in my head is sung by Sinatra, that goes, "What is dancing but making love set to music playing?", and to me, the tango encapsulates that lyric.
No argument on the looks department, if I do say so myself. And I want to go. My friend, Dottie - she was a lively, happy sort. I want to celebrate her life by doing something alive.
And that's why I let you get away with it.
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I don't make my living off of competitions, and I don't have another dance partner worth tangoing with.
I told him to go fuck himself last Wednesday, remember?
Everything okay, doll?
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I remember. And I hope this isn't the dancing version of a pity fuck.
A bout of paranoia flaring.
And somebody close to me passed away.
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Extremely, but to be honest tango isn't something I expect to win at sugar. My practice is swing, the more classical ballroom is more than rusty.
I never pity fuck, or dance. I'm far too proud to be seen in the company of anyone I might pity.
As for your paranoia, sugar, even if we both suck- we'll still be the best looking couple on the floor. But if you ain't feeling up to it because of your friend, I understand.
Reply
No argument on the looks department, if I do say so myself. And I want to go. My friend, Dottie - she was a lively, happy sort. I want to celebrate her life by doing something alive.
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