Dancing Naked in the Living Room

Yes, I do dance naked in my living room. The idea came from an enticing truth or dare game I was playing online with a man who lived alone in the outback of Alaska. After a series of truths or dares, he dared me to dance naked fifteen minutes in my living room with him while he was dancing naked in his cabin in the middle of nowhere, Alaska at night. Come on, it was the middle of winter when I did this-both of us had cabin fever. Honestly, it did not get any kinkier than this. Amazingly, I found it liberating, but the curtains were drawn and no one else knew I was doing this. And, to tell you the truth, this man had no idea if I was naked or not-but I was. That night when I was whipped up in a dancing frenzy, laughing hysterically at the thought I had been coerced by a dare to do this, the dregs of time stopped.

Dancing naked was a perfect anecdote for my obsessive thinking. It's hard to obsess when one is dancing to great music, sending emails to someone in Alaska, and laughing. What a simple idea to rid oneself of the scourge of relentless thought. On that wonderfully whimsical night this man and I shared dancing, secrets, and a sense of freedom we hadn't experienced in years. I'll never forget how much fun and cathartic it was. No doubt it had to have been one of the most ridiculous things I have ever done. The communication with him has ceased long ago but I will remember how his absurd dare made a lasting impression.

Recently, I received a text from an old flame who teasingly wanted to see a photo of me in my newly transformed state. Since our breakup I had lost weight, toned up, and changed my hair color (which I told him has made me look ten years younger). Kiddingly, he responded I was welcome to send him a photo of the new me. However a photo of me "dancing nude is (also) perfectly acceptable." I had told him previously of my penchant for dancing naked but never told him the origin of the story. He is a Waspish kind of academic guy who I didn't think could ever appreciate my feral ways. In my own version of schadenfreunde for breaking up with me I refused to send him a photo but I texted him that he reminded me how I hadn't danced naked in a long time. Tonight, I told him, I would be dancing naked in honor of him to Marshall Krenshaw's, "Someday, Someway", a rousing upbeat dance song of lost love. It felt great.

So here's to dancing naked in the living room to great music.