Saying Yes.

I'd rather be topless. Her jeep sped off; these words cozied up around her license plate. I leave my car and walk into the divey Mexican place on International Boulevard, and I wonder. I wonder if my two friends seated on either side of me will make a go of it, and try a kiss, a caress, when they look at the stars tonight. I wonder how long we’ll have Martin, I wonder about this as I sweep him into a polka after dinner, after being gifted a free Mexican ballad on the digital jukebox. We dance down the aisle, past our table and our spent margaritas, and his words come out with urgency – “HOLD THE DOORS!" and his wife and Jon immediately obey, and swing the two doors wide for Martin and I to dance into the street. It’s good for the soul, this spontaneous exuberance, this glimmer of celebration for no reason. Something about dancing like this says YES to life. Perhaps it’s the contrast between giggles and the dirty floor. Perhaps for that moment, the tenderness, the connection helps us to transcend it all, and it matters not where we are, because we are being. Because we are joy, because we love, just because the doors are open.