groovy girls night

I woke up this morning with a mild headache, very sore knees and a developing blister on the ball of my left foot. A had a night on the town with six girlfriends at a hip newish venue. The Red Maple is a groovin' classy tappas lounge with delicious food and drink and desserts worth every extra calorie. After 9:30 or so, it was a little too loud to converse with anyone who wasn't directly infront of or next to me, as the music began to get faster and people started to crowd the bar. So we got the party started on the dance floor. The d.j. was mixing up some Persian, Indian, hiphop blends which takes a little getting use to, but if anyone is unsure of how to move to this beat, you can take cues from the Bollywood musicals projected on the far wall of the courtyard. (Very funny to watch-people on the dance floor were also amusing) There were several moments when I thought it would be fun to draw this depiction of social ritual, perhaps I may try that sometime.

Upon discussing the previous nights hits and misses with my good friend, we wondered why is it that the less desirable guys are the ones with guts enough to "move in" on the dance floor, especially since they are certain of repeated rejection?