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The Piano Teacher's Daughter Played The Organ Beautifully

The music, pounding through my body, was like a deep massage, and dancing was sweet relief after the day I'd had. It'd started stressfully and my feelings of tension had grown exponentially all day. At the crest of this avalanche of small troubles crashing in on me was my ex-wife, who was on my case about missing a payment for my son's piano lessons, which I felt really bad about already, but she couldn't seem to be convinced of my remorse even though I did end up paying the late payment and two months in advance. I figured there must be a correlation between the state of our affairs and how my beer were disappearing like rain on a Georgia highway in August. So tonight I knew I'd be sweating them out as fast as I could drink them. I'm not a bad dancer and that's funny coming from a guy as big as I am. Dancing is therapy for the soul, and the proximity to so many others sharing the experience was invigorating, sort of tribal, good for the spirit, and exactly what the doctor ordered.

I was with some of my university rugby buddies, drinking and enjoying the view of tonight's diverse assembly of beautiful women, many of whom went to my university. Being on the team, and heavily involved in the Arts in a university town like this one, proved to be a good way for me to broaden the base of my social contacts after my divorce, so I found myself waving all night to buddies and ladies smiling and living the good life. Tonight had party written all over it, and I was in a major ...

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