Boys and dance floors are like oil and water, most times. But when a pretty girl enters the room fear of moving gracefully across the dance floor, in boots made for working, seems to fade.
Now I’m not saying they suddenly become Fred Astaire, they might think they do. But to “that girl” they get the nerve up to ask, well, they are.
And it doesn’t matter the age. When a fella sees “that girl”…that one girl…and she catches him working on gaining his nerve…well the air between them is lightening across the sky, or in this case the dance floor.
The dress the McCabe girl came in tonight could cause a lightning strike. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not one of those get- ups that leave “nothing to the imagination”…just the opposite. And any red blooded man will tell you, that’s the trick. Stopped the young lawyer dead in his tracks. He didn’t know what hit him. Or, maybe he did.
The beauty of a true country girl is that their beauty radiates whether they are in a pair of Levi’s or dressed to the hilt for Sunday church.
The difference being...the freedom they feel in that whirl across the floor and igniting the flame that attracts the moth.
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