After many years of cruising, not once did I go dancing on a night when the band was playing. My husband doesn’t like socializing and hates dancing. Every time we disembarked, I regretted not dancing, something I love so much—it became a lingering sorrow.
“This time, we’ll be on the ship for quite a while, so I have to dance at the evening show. Please don’t stop me—just stay in the cabin and get some sleep.”
“Alright. Do whatever you want, honey.”
Maybe he was tired of hearing me talk about dancing, so he agreed without hesitation.
On the fourth night, I finally made up my mind and went to dance. The place was filled with couples. I was the only one alone. About 15 minutes after the music began, a woman pulled her thinner husband onto the dance floor. Her waist was wider than her height, but she shook her curvy body with confidence. Her husband, clearly reluctant, moved awkwardly as if he was only doing it for her and wished it would end soon. The woman, completely caught up in the excitement and kept moving joyfully.
Suddenly, a woman as plump as the dancing woman asked if she could sit next to me. She kept glancing at me and smiling. There was something unusual about the way she looked at me. Is she a lesbian? I wondered. I had a similar experience once before.
It was at Riverside Park, where a small band was playing. A heavy-set woman with brown skin—couldn’t tell if she was a woman or a man kept giving me sideways glances while sitting beside me. I smiled politely and greeted her.
“Do you live around here?” she asked.
“Yes, and you?”
The conversation started normally but began to drift into strange territory. I had a gut feeling she was looking for a lesbian partner, so I excused myself and left.
Back to the cruise dance floor—maybe it was just my imagination, but the woman sitting next to me had the same kind of gaze as the woman in the park. I tensed up. She asked me,
“Are you cold?”
“A little,” I replied.
“Then shall we go dancing?”
Since I had wanted to dance so badly, I jumped up and joined her on the floor.
Another tall woman joined us, and then more people suddenly came out as if they’d been waiting for someone to start. The band played one energetic song after another, and the singer sang with full power. Even after the music ended, we didn’t return to our seats and just kept dancing.
“Shall we go back to our seats?” she asked, panting.
“I want to keep dancing.”
“Okay, then let’s dance one more song and then go in.”
She seemed tired, though she had started off enthusiastic. We eventually returned to our seats. I asked,
“Did you come on the cruise alone?”
“No, my husband is sleeping. He was tired.”
“My husband is sleeping too. He only comes out for meals. I go around like I’m single. Shall we dance together again tomorrow?”
“Well… I’m not sure about tomorrow.”
I was disappointed by her unexpected answer, but tomorrow—even if I have to dance alone—I’ll dance my heart out.