Do A Little Dance, Make A Little Love....Well Basically Get Down Tonight

            "Eyes closed" my friend Sarah commands. I obey, and I feel her masterfully dusting eyeshadow over every crevice of my eyelid. "Now look straight", I do as she says, and I feel the mascara wand making my eyelashes thicker, darker, and longer. The eyeliner is applied to come to a winged point at the sides of my face. Sparkles must go everywhere. Makeup done, time for hair. I sit in front of Michelle so she can take my hopelessly straight hair and turn it into a mass of curls. Each fragile strand of pin-like hair transforms into a bouncy brown ringlet. All I need now is my dress. Black, tight, spandex, with a stripe of silver and black rhinestones going down the center. Paired with giant silver hoops. Perfect.

             We pull up to the school, already booming with people, yet they're still filing in by the dozen. Everything is big, flashy, and most importantly: sparkly. This can only mean one thing: it's the annual disco dance. Girls in go-go boots, guys in white bell bottoms. Anything shiny and spandex is acceptable attire. Sounds of the 70's are heard from the gym. As we get closer, the music becomes more intolerable, and the lights dim until all that can be seen is the light from the disco ball and the dancing figures from music videos of a very dark time in our musical past: disco. Plenty of Michael Jackson and Abba to go around. 

             Couples are scattered about the dance floor - most of which either grinding or making out. Groups of single guys looking for a group of single girls to entertain themselves. Friends drifting from group to group, swaying along with the words of "Dancing Queen". Everyone points at one another: "you can dance, YOU can jive, having the time of your life!" High schoolers high on life (and some just plain high), yes, these are the treasured occasions of high school.
             Girls: let's not lie though. The best part of disco, is going back to a friend's house, taking off your shoes - and if you saw my shoes, you'd understand why I screamed "SWEET SALVATION!" - eating pizza and cookies to your heart's content, and recounting the events of the night past.