Dancing Shoes

The Fall Ball is in Peterborough New Hampshire this weekend. Who knows why Peterborough is relevant? Come on, at least 6 of you do. Cough it up.

I sewed the spare snap on straps to my dance shoes tonight because I ran out of time this weekend to actually get my tuchas to Stamford for wide elastic while the store was still open. This will work. I don't care if they're pink. It ain't about what it looks like. I love the shoes.

I think I abandoned my dance of origin this weekend. Not sure I'll go back. A difference of opinion in how we deal with men who cause women to run away and never come back. Or fail to deal with them. The man in question has been a problem for a year. I was his first mark and I nearly broke his arm after the second warning. Our president chose not to remove him because there weren't any other complaints or reports although we could see discomfort.

She's a woman. By the way. Older. Dislikes conflict. Remember Elizabeth's predator?

This time another dancer approached me and said a new dancer pushed him in the chest, both hands, away from her and then felt guilty and left the dance. Our president said she didn't think he could help himself and should have one more chance.

Cletus wants to dance. I won't take her there. I left that night in the middle of the dance which caused one hell of an uproar after the fact because I just don't do that and at the end of the committee member email string back and forth I let it fly and then that was that.

This shit happens everywhere all the time. We have a choice. Every time. Speak the hell up. If you see something say something. If something happens to you say something. If you are in a position of authority for the love of God DO something.

And if you're like me don't put up with the shit for 8 months because you already blew the whistle once and you think you hit your max for the year.

It's better an organization fold than serve as a haven for filth.

My shoes are mended. I'm loaded for bear.