Turning Up The Heat

by Rajul Punjabi

“Dance with him. It’s not sex,” I said, very rationally.

“No. Absolutely not,” she said, in her stern, Catholic school nun tone. “Oh! But you can dance with him. Come on – I’ll live vicariously through you.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I went over, asked him to dance (summer boldness) and we broke it down to some overplayed, but always club-friendly Sean Paul reggae. He was a great dancer, too.

And so the evening continued in just that pattern, as the girls elected their choice picks for me to socialize with. It was like a watered-down, less corrupt pimping system. Fantastic! Of course, I got my girly ‘don’t infiltrate the circle’ dance time in with the chicks, which is what led us all way to 4 a.m., at which point I had to drag them out of that place before they turned the lights on.

So as I sit here by the fountain, watching the couple-centric New Yorkers stroll by, holding hands and wallowing in summer-loving bliss, I am pleased to rediscover that being boldly single in the summer can be a healthy alternative. And let’s not forget the charm of an inevitable summer fling (or two?)