Two Aussies, A Canadian & an Israeli Walk Into A Bar…

Tonight is girls’ night.  Me and 3 of my international friends have been itching to hit the dance floor so we are going to some place called Radnost. This could be a cool club or a Serbian prison, not really sure which but the group is good company so wherever we end up I’m sure we’ll have a blast. 20 years ago I loved going to clubs.  Of course, social media wasn’t a thing back then so whenever I made a total fool of myself, it didn’t end up all over the internet. While I’m not planning to make a fool of myself, I have to be realistic. I am a bonafide klutz. I have never, ever, met anyone with less grace than myself.  I don’t try to be this way. I think it’s just part of my DNA the way some people are gifted with gorgeous, thick hair or the athletic prowess of a cheetah. My superpower is stumbling awkwardness.  For an evening like tonight, I have to actually think about this before going out. If I wear a dress, it will look amazing until I trip over someone’s cigarette butt and my dress ends up over my face. If I wear pants, I’m likely to be a little too confident because there is nothing to fly up in my face. I will dance like a 70 year old at a Beatle’s reunion concert where they’ve announced that the world has been duped and Lennon and Harrison are still alive and are coming on stage for one last gig. I’ll throw my crazy arms up, get tangled in some Serbian woman’s hair, and end up in a wrestling match on the floor, apologizing for my clumsiness in English that she can’t understand and probably end up with a black eye or something.  Trying to figure out which is the lesser of two evils. Dress or pants?

This is going to be interesting…

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If only I looked like this when I fall…

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