First things first, a busy day at work, with a small interlude before our Oktoberfest festivities. The challenge was there about the whole walk thing. I was tired after work. Had things to do before going out for the evening. But still, got myself out the door and did the 12 block walk through the neighbourhood. Glad I did, because the rest of the evening was about drinking beer and socializing.
We had a great time at the German-Canadian club for Oktoberfest. Michael and I opted out the buffet dinner of pork hocks and lamb in sour cream sauce, and just had beer. The place was full of dancers. And I mean dancers with a capital D. You know the type. They show up, have their cliche of dancing friends, wear the proper dancing shoes and go out there and do their best So You Think You Can Dance Moves. A bit intimidating to people like Michael and I who only dance together in the kitchen while cooking dinner, but have NEVER danced properly together on a dance floor (except once, and we’re both unsure if it actually happened). I’ve danced a few polka’s in my life, and Michael did the hula when he was dragged up on stage at the Waikiki Hilton by the yipping hula girls, and that’s the extent of our dancing career. I suppose I shouldn’t forget the dancing I did back in the 80’s during my bar scene days, but I really don’t want to remember the hair, the flourecent coloured clothes and the endless gin and tonics I drank.