Muzak dance parties. Back in high school, before I was cynical about love, I eagerly read and reread a book called
1001 Ways to Be Romantic so I'd be prepared for the day when I found a quirky partner whom I could shower with love and affection. One of the tips the author suggested for sparking some passion in your relationship was spontaneously dancing to soft rock hits being pumped over the PA system at grocery stores. That's right, nothing will get your motor revvin' more than grooving to a little Barry Manilow in the produce section. I think it's all those bananas. As hokey as the author's suggestion may be, I do find the idea of unexpectedly doing a few swing moves or showing off one's swivel hips in public to be quite charming. We've already established, Jason, that you were born with a complete lack of shame and have natural rhythm, so you would be the ideal partner for grooving with me in an elevator or department store. Start thinking of a few choice moves now, because if "Forever in Blue Jeans" is ever cranked up at the local mall I will grab your hand and expect you to shake what your mama gave you. Just don't steal my thunder or you'll be rubbing your sore feet all alone and begging the clerk at Cinnabon for a ride home.
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