Driving home from what was once my job, (retail was the best thing that I have ever done with my life, nothing will be quite as rewarding) I always noticed one lady/girl/female (I don’t know what I’d call her.). She was always standing on the side of the road, where I believe there is a bus stop, but I’ve never actually proven that. She stood there, and as I drove by her, she would move her legs in a very European way. A way that shouted ‘Somewhere in Europe!’, but I could never hear her legs shout exactly where in Europe. Possibly the Ukraine. She did remind me of perogies when I first saw her.
I drove by her numerous times, and each time, her legs dipped in the same way, with one toe tapping while bent behind the other. The front foot slightly sliding in the snow, knees bent, hands in her pockets. Just like Europe. Somewhere.

Then I walked by her just outside of the bar across the street. She was headed to her dancing post, I was leaving the fabled burger time. She caught me off guard. I always figured she worked at the Walmart or at some weird old lady clothing store in the mall. But she was coming from a direction opposite the mall. She probably sold cute pet clothes at the weird cat lady store in the strip mall across from the mall. Wherever she worked, she had ample opportunity for dancing, and her work schedule didn’t interfere.

To do something, you have to be something. To dance, you have to be a dancer. To write, you have to be a writer. To engineer, you have to be an engineer (that word is both a verb and a noun). To read, you have to be a reader. You can’t just be a well rounded individual, who does everything free from the title. Or you can’t be a very focused individual without a title. You are what you do. If you cook, you’re a cook (another instance). If you compute, you are a computer. You can’t be nothing. You have to be a dancer. That is my calling. Just call me a dancer.