Dancing With Carol by Brendan Landers
It’s time for a slow set, the deejay declares in his singsong voice, at the Sunday afternoon hop in Baldoyle Village Hall. It’s the first Sunday after Christmas and my pal Derek and I are dressed to the nines in our brand-new holiday glad-rags. I have on a vivid pink shirt with a button-down collar, a lemon-colored cravat, navy-blue bell-bottoms and brown wet-look boots with pointy toes. I have hair down to my shoulders, layered on top and parted in the middle.
Derek likes ...