I am on a bus as a sort of head resident type. Lots of things happen and we are headed home. It is late and I am very tired. I fall into bed, exhausted. I live in a Uni house kind of residence. This one morning I feel better and I walk down to breakfast. It feels wonderful. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep it up, but for now it feels grand. A man I like comes in and sees me walking. He's so happy, he and I hug, standing up and kiss and now it's like we have declared our love to each other. We are interrupted with the news that I am going to be the dance queen tonight, like homecoming queen for the prom or something. This is going to be a long night and I wonder if I will be able to manage being so active on my feet so much. I have to dance with every man. The older man who runs the place insists I walk across the gym and stand at the edge of the bathtub and then walk all the way across the gym to where a long table is. I protest this will hurt me too much, but he insists. I do it and the young men line up one at a time to dance with me. They each bring a card with some phrases written on them, like cards you get with flowers. A young man announces each one. One man and I dance. Then I have to walk back to the bath tub area. This goes on for awhile and I want my loved one to come dance with me before it's too late and I can't move. Again I'm at the table and I just refuse to do the long walk. I go straight out to the dance floor. The older man is angry and insists I do it the "right" way. I mouth the words "fuck off" and go back to the table. The announcing man says, "Did I hear swear words?" I say, "You didn't HEAR them!" Then the music is wild and Latin and I start dancing toward the center of the floor all by myself. A woman comes up to me and says, "This will be terrible." I ask, "What will?" She says, "You're older than us and you'll end up living here and then you'll be 85 years old and our children will see you and be afraid." I say, "You mean like I'll be the old witch of the village?" She says, "Yes." This upsets her. I'm a little annoyed myself at her. I see a man dancing across the floor and he's wonderful at it. He's dark and Latin. I dance to him and it's so graceful, like we're skating only we're in stocking feet (nylons for me). We glide and swirl around and now his girlfriend is jealous and tries to cut in. The three of us do a kind of duck and pull dance. Then I glide out of it and they go off. The older man has shoved the big bathtub over to the center so I can still do the ritual, but not walk so far. I smile at his tenacity. He glares at me because he had to compromise. I go stand in front of the tub. There is lots of steaming warm water in it and I feel my aching, limping joints start to feel better by standing in the warm steam. Behind the tub is a young man, seated. He has a bright tow head blonde crew cut. He makes a smart remark and I grab him by the hair and pull him to standing like he's a naughty little boy. He grimaces. Now I hear my love. He's drunk and he's coming to the dance to start a food fight with catsup and mustard to break up the dance so I can get away and off my feet. It's a rescue. I catch his eye and he looks at me lovingly but drunk. He's wearing black pants. Some of the young women come up to me to help me get out before the fight gets going good. I say, "Wait, my cards and gifts. I want them." Someone goes to collect them for me and we go out. I am relieved I can soon sit down and not hurt so much, and sad I never got a dance with my love.