Off the floor: In between dances

I stopped worshiping women after I started dancing.
There was complete silence when we entered the small crowded change room. Let me correct that. I was surrounded by complete silence when they realized that I have entered the room and that  I am a guy.

The veterans of shows and performances just continues on in their quiet solitude, floating in their head with rituals before a show. The silence was created by those new to the show scene, who are still uncomfortable changing in front of the presence of men. They are probably thinking: “Is he going to peek?”

The answer is: Yes and No. Being stuffed into the same change room with the ladies are often the result of a hindsight of the organizers. Alas, you cannot blame them because they are not dancers and have no idea that we need to change into our customs, which often require us to get completely naked beforehand. Which was quite exciting in the beginning for me, but the novelty already wore off for me after several years bathed in superbly toned bodies with superbly tanned skins.

It has changed my perception and I have since set that as the minimum requirement of beauty. It’s not the same beauty as the skinny model type though. Dancers are more muscular and fitter, often with a bigger bone structure to withstand the fast switch in gravity direction. The most prominent indication of a good dancer can be observed from the shape of their back and thigh. Which to my surprise, has become an instant turn on/off for me.

I get lost in watching people’s movement now. Seeing and understanding the reason behind each particular gait. I often find myself lost in finding irregularities of a person’s footsteps. A pretty face, no longer hold much meaning to me except for the probability of a spoilt person who expect everyone to hand them anything they wanted for sex.
It’s strange how when beauty is a norm around me, I find myself searching for a face that doesn’t fit the golden standard. Looking at a model’s face, is like looking at a wooden mask made by some faraway African tribe… emotionless.