Dance, yes. Ride, not so much

This Friday, Hubby and I went to see The Idle Americans.

They are awesome. They are the half-band-brothers of ACME Blues Company, and my readers already KNOW how much I love ACME.

So, anyway, the music was great, because it had to be, because these guys are talented and charming as all hell.

WHY AREN'T YOU COMING TO THESE SHOWS WITH US? HAVE YOU NO MUSICAL TASTE? DON'T YOU EVEN WANT TO HAVE A LITTLE FUN? TIME'S A WASTIN'!

(readers outside the Southern Maryland area can just, um, excuse that last one, ok? I know it's not YOUR fault)

One downside, though.

Friday night, the only person who asked me to dance was an actual, bona fide, Jerry's Kid.

I have confirmed, without room for doubt, that although I love to dance, and will dance with just about anyone, I am really pretty selective regarding on whose laps I will gladly sit. I think Hubby has full and exclusive lap privileges, from now on, no matter how insistent the guy is that "I'm not asking for a Lap Dance, it's just that this is how I dance!"

Well, if some amazing fantasy man invites me on his lap, I'll reconsider. But no more charitable lap sitting, for me!

On the plus side, Hubby and I have now devised a code for "this guy is giving me the creeps, help me out!"

Because "You need to get me out of here" was, apparently, too subtle for Hubby, when I said it, Friday night.

I guess the problem is, my "smiling politely while trying not to slide off a moving wheelchair without clinging to the stranger beneath me" face is not all that different from my "having fun" face.

I'll have to work on that.