He grabs her hand and pulls her away from her seat,
But she pulls them back and beats a retreat.
She shakes her head to tell him “no”;
The one-finger salutes tells him to go.
She runs to a friend standing nearby,
Thinking among strangers he might go shy.
But he approaches her with still a forceful stance,
Ever determined to get her to dance.
He pushes her friend away and then more,
And in an instant her friend’s on the floor.
She screams and shouts for him to stop,
And from the cleaner she grabs a mop.
A heavy swipe to the left and right,
Mop in hand she’s ready to fight!
He looks at her and starts to smile,
But she returns it with a heavy growl.
She pounces on him but he steps to the left,
Leaving her hitting air ‘cos he’s too deft!
She tries again with a powerful swipe,
But off he goes this time to the right.
It goes like this for ‘most an hour more,
A rhythmic fight right on the dance floor.
She never did give him a second chance,
But he got what he wanted — he got his dance.
I love to read and write. Professionally, data science, technology, and sales ops are my thing. In my non-professional life, I aspire quite simply to be a good person, and encourage others to do the same. For those who care, I test as INFJ/INTJ (55/45?) in the MBTI.