Anybody Could be That Gal...

Look how Supple... That's me banging my feet together in the air. (not)

All dancing should begin with Dancing Queen.  Everyone wants to dance to it, whether they want to be Blonde Agnetha, or Meryl Streep.  When it came on tonight, I could detect a change in the way everyone was dancing.  We were all dancing queens. 

Hearing it, reminded me of a gal i used to be friends with.  S, was everything I wasn't. She was grown up, she had her period, she shunned the Bay City Rollers, She loved Freddy Mercury (didn't see that one coming did she), and she had mahooosive boobs. 

I used to go round to her house of an evening, to dissect the NME and maybe pass a casual glance at the FAB208.  In reality I was there to play with the kittehs, but I could throw the odd comment in about how cool Bohemian Rhapsody was (I HATED IT). 

S decided to make me over .... this involved brushing my ever messy hair and pinning it back, slapping make up all over my face, and squeezing me into any number of concoctions of her dresses.  

Our styles were totally contrary.  S had hair to her waist, wore eyeliner always, and flouncy blouses with pushy up bras. I had a denim jumpsuit and I wore it always. 

One such evening she had decorated me to the hilt; pinned my hair up, squeezed my boobs into one of her bras, stuffed it with cotton balls, make my face up and then forced me into a pair of her high heels.  

We tottered out the house.  A casual walk around the block was all we could manage; my walking in heels is still a problem, at 11 it was nigh on impossible.     Her goal was to walk me past the nearest hotel, where upon seeing us, all the eligible men would instantly run out the door and propose marriage or at least a snog.  

15 minutes it took us to walk the 200 yards.  And then we casually tottered passed, glancing coquettishly up at the bay window, where all the likely lads were going to be sat. 

Even heavily disguised in someone else's clothes and a gallon of make up, the figure at the window was still able to recognise me, and my dad raised his eyebrows and shook his head, as I staggered past, giggling hysterically as I tried desperately to think of a way to explain.

"We got dressed up to take the kitten for a walk". 

"You forgot the kitten then?, said dad.