Saturday night, Chicago.
"Will you dance with me?" the man asked me plaintively, as we entered the parking lot.
"Sorry, not tonight," I replied pleasantly.
"Ok," he said. "Maybe tomorrow."
"Maybe," I agreed, as he stumbled away, arms waving, singing to himself.
"He was hitting on you," D. said in her best Authoritative Teacher voice, which was marred by only the slightest hint of teasing laughter.
"He was drunk," I protested.
"Ok, that was only half a hit."
There's something about these concerts and parking lots.
Go listen to some good music: "I Can't Dance" from the album Turn It On Again by Genesis.