“Let’s go dancing,” Julie suggested.
Felix looked at his wife of forty years in disbelief. “Dancing? You can’t be serious. Why would you want to go dancing?”
“Oh Felix, we used to have such fun going out and dancing the night away,” Julie said. “Remember the night….”
Felix interrupted his wife. “First of all, we haven’t danced together in years. I think the last time was at our son’s wedding, and he got married 15 years ago…and divorced eight years ago. Second, I’m 72 and you’re 68. Do you really think we can still dance without hurting something? And finally, where would we go? They don’t have dance clubs where you can do the waltz, the foxtrot, the cha-cha, or the jitterbug anymore.”
“But Felix,” Julie objected,” we are in a rut. We need to spice things up, don’t you think?”
Shaking his head, Felix continued. “Look, we don’t know any of these new dangled dances. And today all you’ve got are discos and, what do you call them, raves, with their mash pits, pot, ecstasy pills, or some such nonsense.”
“There must be places in the city for older couples like us to, you know, strut our stuff,” Julie said.
“Yeah, old age homes and retirement communities,” Felix responded. “I don’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of old people.”
“Okay, fine,” Julie said, resigned to yet another night of staying home and watching TV. “I think TBS is having one of its ‘NCIS’ marathons again tonight.”
Written for today’s one-word prompt, “dancing.”