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198. Dance, Girl

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As the music got louder, her movements became more outlandish. Now she was opening and closing a heavy, imaginary sliding door with both hands. Left to right. Real quick. “She’s a suas,” said Mickey, joining me at the bar. “What’s a suas?” “Sloth under a spotlight,” and he burst out laughing. I couldn’t see that acronym catching on and I told him so. Now she had her palms on her knees and her head was swaying from side to side, like an imaginary boxer was beating the shit out of her. With her hair hanging down, Laura was the life of the party.

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