Set One:  7:15pm   Full of energy and having a great time with three little kids who were having a marvelous time dancing too.   My favorite memories are the little two year old boy kept delivering one dollar bills and then somersaulting back to his dad, and a three year old practicing her snake arms and spins.  Dancing time: 25 minutes

Set Two:  8:30  Holy cow, got to dance again because 1 new couple has come in (and the girl is a bellydancer).    I do a new set, (Zamon joins me for one song) get people up to dance and complete my set....only to have Fadil come up and ask me to get the bellydancer up to dance....he turns my music back on and the 6' bellydancer proceeds to show off her shimmys for 4 minutes, as I tried to keep the sweat on my face from splashing on the customers.     Dancing time:  28 minutes

Set Three  9:00pm   Crapitola-khomeini !     I'm walking out the door, and Fadil comes up to me and says he has a problem.  Another bellydancer and boyfriend have come in, and have demanded to see a set and she will leave if I don't dance.  After giving me the mournful eye, I ask him if I can just do three dances.  He says of course, but the bellydancer overhears and says she wants a full set......anyway, I go to do my third twirl around the floor -- (note to self:  do not use a silk veil when you are sweaty --really sticks to you like glue) .   A gay couple wave at me that they want to dance, and I pull up one of the guys and he and I begin waltzing up to the front,  when the other guy fails in his attempt find my waistband...... I stop dead in my tracks, and turn around glaring at the offending male thinking about how to deck him gracefully in a way that Leea would approve ... in the meantime the happy Sidi Monsoor music is playing and I've got to keep dancing.    My drum solo begins, and up come both bellydancers (uninvited) to dance to my drum solo.  Amazing !   Dancing time:  20 minutes

I grumbled to myself all the way home --my hip a quivering lump of shooting stars.   I get home and I'm recounting the tale of the hip diving hand to my husband as I'm pulling off my wet costume.  My husband says "hold on there", proceeds to pull a sopping wet bill that was stuck in my underwear, and holds it up and says "at least it was a ten dollar bill".

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