Dance Floor Thoughts.

So Preston and I chaperoned the Upper School Homecoming Dance, and if you would ever like to feel OH MY GOD SO VERY OLD, you should definitely chaperone a high school dance. Our first station was by the back door in the gym to make sure that no one left the dance illegally. We were positioned (thankfully) behind the speakers, but could still hear the music VERY VERY WELL. We also had a pretty good view of the dance floor. Here are two of our conversations.

Disclaimer before Conversation #1: Preston and I have the lamest taste in music, um, ever. Embarrassingly, the only time I listen to new music is when a) my music guru friend Margaret makes me a Mix CD, or b) I hear a song I like on TV and buy it off of iTunes. The only time that Preston listens to new music is when a) I play Margaret's mix CDs on repeat in the car (which is not infrequent), or b) when I play the songs I've just bought from iTunes on repeat when I'm taking a shower (also not infrequent). So now that you know what music losers we are, here is our conversation from last night:

Preston: I don't know any of the songs that they're playing.

Mary Frances: Me neither. Well, I think I might recognize some of them, but they're all remixed and rappy, and I'm just not cool enough for that.

Preston: Oh, wait! I do know this one! It's, um...

Mary Frances: Oh, I do too! Who IS it???

Preston: I know! It's Queen Latifah.

Mary Frances: This is definitely not Queen Latifah.

Preston: Oh no no no, you're right--it's Faith Hill.

Mary Frances [pausing]: This is DEFINITELY not Faith Hill.

Preston: It's um, um, um...

Mary Frances: Lauryn Hill! It's LAURYN Hill! From the Fugees! And it's that song, um..."That Boy"?

Preston: No! I've got it. It's "That Thing."

And that was pretty much the only song we knew during our forty-five minute stretch of dance-floor supervising. I am embarrassed that I exist right now.

Disclaimer before Conversation #2: I always thought it was evidence of how old and lame my teachers were in high school when they warned us against looking like we were having "vertical sexual intercourse" while we were dancing. BUT WHAT DO YOU KNOW IT KIND OF DOES. I left before the serious grinding/humping/groping started, but even what I saw was enough to spark this exchange:

Mary Frances: Our children will remain virgins forever. They will immaculately conceive grandchildren for us.

Preston: I'm a firm believer in chastity belts.

And after that we went to our next station, supervising the boy's bathroom (outside, not in). Fun! And after that I came home, walked the dogs, put my pile of laundry away, poured myself a glass of wine, and said a little prayer of thanks that I am no longer fifteen.