Before I even arrived at the party, I knew that it was going to be another long night of staring off into space while everyone else had a great time. Perhaps I would be able to scrounge up some Hershey's Kisses to munch on, but it wasn't very likely. With a sad sigh, I entered the room in anticipation of becoming the world's next wallflower.
About 15 minutes into the party, I pulled out my phone in hysterical desperation. I was alone and slightly freaked out. I needed to talk to someone. Anyone. I decided to choose my good friend Stephanie. She was an expert at this kind of stuff. I slunk into the corner and rapidly began to text.
Me: Big party. Bright lights. Must begin operation wallflower.
Stephanie: Haha I can't even. You are so funny.
Just as I was about to text a reply, the DJ screamed, "Everybody, I wanna see all of you go to da dance floor! You gotta get on here, yo! This gon' be a rockin' party!" Before I knew what was happening, I was caught in a sea of people, dragging me over to the dance floor. Suddenly, I was squashed in the middle of around 100 bodies, all of them rocking to Whistle by Flo Rida.
"Agh! Get me out of--what the--wait...wait, this is a pretty cool song...what the--am I--how the--I'm...I'm...Dancing! Oh my god! I'm dancing!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. And so I was. I was rocking out and getting down to songs that I usually can't stand. By the time I was able to stagger off the dance floor, I had been dancing and headbanging for an hour straight.
I proceeded to text Stephanie.
Me: Operation wallflower failed. Overrided by operation party-like-a-crazy-person. Must be something in the popcorn.
Stephanie: I'm glad you're having a fun time!
After about 5 hours of getting down, eating mini cupcakes, and doing everything that a girl like me wouldn't do, I decided to call it a night. The minute I got home, I flopped down. "Well," I said. "I guess we learn something new about ourselves everyday, don't we?"
Sometimes my wisdom knocks me off my feet.