Dancing with Betty

Sometimes when you are on a long RV trip, you get weary of driving and you want to do something different. Well, here is a picture of me dancing taken quite a few years ago when I was a single guy (for the first time). I was in Colorado, all by myself, and all of a sudden a little voice spoke to me that said, "Chuck, you need to dance."

Now, this is either a true story or a dream I once had. I'm not sure which, so maybe it's not true. Anyway. . .

I stopped in a little dancing place near Pueblo, where you could actually pay by the dance. You paid a dollar and you got two dances. Normally if you go out to dance you bring a date and you buy dinner, wine and maybe two or three mixed drinks, and by the end of the evening you probably end up paying $4 a dance, maybe more. So this was a spectacular deal.

And so I paid $10 for quite a few tickets, which got me a lot of dances. I took a liking to a petite dancer named Betty, who had brown hair, brown eyes and a very nice shape. So we danced one dance after another, mostly slow dances because I am a terrible fast dancer. It was great. Records were playing Freddy and the Dreamers' songs.

Afterwards I asked Betty to have coffee with me, which she did, which was against the rules. But she was up for it. Then we took a stroll along a stream, which I learned later was named Terror Creek. Betty was swell. But I never saw her again because I had to move on to find an RV park, and it was far out of town. I always wondered what happened to Betty, but I guess I will never know.