Two-Stepping In Stadium Seating

Court and I were unlikely friends. We both worked as editors at the Campus Ledger, but that was where similarities ended. I was a good girl--a virgin who never swore or drank, made a daily attempt to look perfectly put together, and couldn't handle confrontation.

Court lived in an Iron Maiden t-shirt and a long black leather trench coat, argued with everyone, smoked, kept a fifth in his desk drawer, horrified me daily with stories of debauchery, and probably still hasn't shaved. Within a month of sharing workspace, we were like siblings.

I was the Arts and Entertainment Editor, and Court the News Editor. When the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band announced a performance at our school, we saw it as a great night out...for work. I made Court promise that if "Fishin' In The Dark" was played, he would two-step with me.

When we arrived at the theater, we were disappointed to see people sitting down in their assigned seats. No mingling, no talking, no preparation to dance. The audience was filled with well dressed Johnson County residents. It was horrible. So we sat in our seats, Court took notes for his review, and I squirmed.

Finally, "Fishin In The Dark" came on. I looked over at Court with my best "You PROMISED!" look, and then we hopped over the back of our theater seats and started two-stepping. We went down toward the stage, back up the middle and around the edges. The ushers, who were all elderly volunteers, looked simultaneously put out and bored. The song ended, we made our way back to our seats feeling defiant and young.

Court and I have been friends for a long time now (he introduced me to my husband), but that remains one of my favorite memories of us.