Some Days You've Just Got to Dance

I had a job four days later. I returned to multi-line adjusting for a independent claims adjuster firm. I would be making  more money than I was earning at MHA and I was given a car allowance that just about covered my car payment.  I negotiated a starting date in late November.  I had plans to go on a much needed vacation to Florida with Michael.

He had planned this surprise get away shortly after the unexpected visit from Killer at his condo.  The offer of a vacation was a nice gesture, but I would later discover there was a hidden agenda that accompanied this gift. He thought if he took me away from Killer,  I could experience the fun we had had prior to Killer's unexpected entrance back into my life. My life with Killer, all the years and experiences, would just dissolve, as if they had never been there to begin with. Michael had no idea the hold this man  had on me nor did I. 

We flew out of Detroit and into Tampa with no agenda.  I loved it! Just traveling on a wing and a prayer. He only bought the plane tickets and rented us a convertible. We had no place reserved to stay as we were just going to take life by the horns and fly with great gusto. 

We both loved the water.  We both were night owls.  Killer was an early bird gets the worm kind of guy.  I didn't mind that he was a  morning person, until he tried making me a morning person.

Michael and I ended up in Indian Rocks Beach in Florida, just south of Clearwater. We rented an efficiency that faced the ocean.  We could just unwind.  Get up when we wanted, have breakfast without rushing out to a restaurant.  Hit the beach, come in and  have lunch and then go out on the town at night. It was perfect.

We set up our little vacation bungalow. Headed out to the beach and just melted into the beauty of the ocean, sand and sun. We both were sun worshipers.  Killer detested the sun. He couldn't sit still enough to just relax in the sun.  Yet he didn't like doing anything outside of the sun either. It was a no win situation with him.

I loved laying on the beach and reading a book, doing a crossword puzzle or just taking a little nap on and off through out the day. Michael and I would  get up and grab a small bite to eat on the veranda.  Jump in our suits and head to the beach that laid just steps away from our bungalow.

We did crossword puzzles together, read, took long walks hand in hand, talked about everything under the stars and relaxed. We bought this beach game that was similar to ping pong, the ball was the same, the paddles a little bit larger and we would go out into the ocean and hit this ball back and forth to one another seeing who could keep it from hitting the water first.  We spent hours playing. 

Michael and I loved to shop whether we found some thing or were just browsing, it was some thing to do. Killer hated shopping, except for car parts. At night or late in the afternoon, we'd jump in the convertible and drive down the coast looking for an adventure.  He was like me, if we saw something and had passed it, he'd turn the car around and we'd head back to explore our little treasure in this dream world we were vacationing in.

Killer and I had visited Florida a few weeks after Worm ran away.  We  had driven down to see my parents new "winter" manufactured home in a golfing community.  Killer complained for weeks before our trip that he hated Florida, nothing but a bunch of old people, little blue haired cotton top women and cranky old men! He didn't want to do a thing the whole week we visited my parents.  It was a new community so not many people were living there as my parents were one of the first to buy. It was in Haines City, two hours from a beach, but Orlando was less than an hour away, he refused to go explore, just sat and pouted the whole week we were there.

Michael and I never sat down unless we were sunning on the beach and still we were busy doing something together.  We asked around about places we could go dancing and found a couple of spots that were perfect for what we were looking for.  We loved the oldies and rock and roll.  My dance lessons proved to be  quite valuable.  It wasn't that I couldn't dance, but Michael taught me to dance with him, as a couple. He taught me dances that matched up with the songs that we heard at the bars.  

From my youth, when my parents used to go out and dance, I knew how to twist quite well.  I would put Chubby Checker on my parents Magnavox Hi-Fi stereo record player and twist with Chubby for hours. But beyond that, my movements, were just movements, not orchestrated to any particular sound.

Michael taught me the Jitterbug, the Pony, Watusi, the Frug, the Swim, how to Stroll, Walk the Dog, the Jerk, you name it, I could dance it with him. We were finely tuned together.  One night we went out to this little hole in the wall bar just to dance. Neither of us were drinkers, but we loved to dance.  As the music started, we hit the dance floor with gusto and we "cut a rug" as they used to say back in the day.  I was in my own little world, dancing my heart out and forgetting all my troubles.  Michael was trying to get my attention.  There we danced on this crowded bar room floor alone.  Every one had stepped back, crowded around us watching us dance together. Cheering us on to dance more.  We were the entertainment of the floor that night.  We didn't go home that night with the mirror ball trophy like the winners on Dancing with the Stars, but I went home with a wonderful memory of how  much fun it was to enjoy life to the fullest.