The thumping disco beat reverberated throughout the club, commanding her to move. And when the music spoke, she had to obey.
She twirled. Whirled. Boogied down. Now believing the music's promise: soon it would be raining men.
All eyes were on her. She could feel it. She gloried in it. Knowing that they marveled at her movement.
Sadly, she was wrong. They were taking bets as to how soon she would swallow her purse.
Vogue 2313, 1979