activate your dance floor kitty.

If you look closely at that crappy photo you'll find me and my new friend Stephanie busting out some serious Thriller moves on the dance floor. One of my favorite friends turned 40 over the weekend and to celebrate we went dancing at a local bar cleverly called 8e's. It's an awesome joint that plays all 80's music and serves up cheap liquor drinks.

We arrived way too early (9:30 pm) and had the whole place to ourselves. I was in heaven because I am never out at 9:30 and also because I am the queen of any empty dance floor. I have all the best moves and I know it. The Running Man, the Roger Rabbit, the Cabbage Patch, or even the Robot. Oh yeah, I have moves for days! Not only that but I know a ton of cheesy dance routines that I made up when I was 15 years old. Some of the ladies out with us had been on the dance team in high school and had some pretty amazing moves themselves. So, there were five of us, dancing like we were on a drill team made up of thirty-somethings and it was fantastic.

In the midst of our incredible display of jazz hands and high kicks, we had a conversation about an article that had been printed earlier last week in our local college paper. Apparently some jackass had made a comment about "Cougars" being at this particular bar. Here is the exact quote that we were discussing over our fruity drinks..."Here at 8es bar, we’re going Cougar hunting,” said Zach Davidson, a University alumnus. “Why Cougars? They’re actually hard to get. The 21-year-olds, if you get enough shots, they’re too easy. But you get a cougar, she’s married; she might have like, five kids; she’s kind of a challenge. Love the challenge.”

So, there we were, at the "Cougar" bar way too early, dancing our asses off to Depeche Mode songs when a crew of young men came marching into the joint. At first I was in denial that we could possibly be considered Cougars but as these young men danced their way over to us, I suddenly felt ancient. They looked like they were about 12 years old but these guys were totally getting down. I mean, they had done their homework because one of them actually busted out the "Molly Ringwald Breakfast Club dance" pretty well.

I wasn't sure how to proceed as they danced all around us and could feel myself spiralling into an existential crisis. Many questions swirled in my mind. Questions like, when did I turn into the almost middle aged woman at the 80's themed bar reliving my glory days? Would I pull a leg muscle if I tried to do the splits in a drunken fit right now? If you were to stick pink feather boas on us, would we look a van full of Cougars unleashed in Vegas? Are those A-holes making fun of me? Why do I suddenly feel too old for the dance floor, me, the Mayor of Jazz Town? Who could feel like old with moves this smooth? I mean, look at these jazz hands.

Then, I stepped back and watched these young guys that were laughing and hopping around to Michael Jackson songs and realized that they were totally there to just have fun and dance. I saw myself in them, eleven years ago at 80's disco night and forgot for a bit that I was a thirty six year old mom of two. We all danced together and even had a dance off or two. They were totally respectful and didn't treat us like Cougars at all. I know that they were impressed with our "Beat it" moves (I was shocked at how much of the routine we could piece together) and we all had some serious fun.

It ended up being a legendary night on the dance floor and I managed to dance my existential crisis away. Clearly, I am still the Mayor of Jazz Town. Which was a HUGE relief because I find it hard to believe that I am reaching Cougar territory anyway. What was I even worried about?