The Last Ride of the Crazy Train

Holly watched in pained amusement as Aaron gyrated in front of the bench on his side of the slushy, snowy path.

If she had to guess, she would have said that her best friend thought he was dancing, but it looked more like he was having a stroke and a seizure simultaneously.

She sipped her coffee, returned her mask to the ready position, and patiently waited for this assault on eyes to mercifully end.

That finally happened when Aaron finally slipped on the slush and landed on his ass.

Holly’s first instinct was to rush to his aid, but that would mean invading the six foot perimeter around the world’s worst dancer, and that would be a violation of his very strict social distancing protocols.

So she sat and waited for the litany of curses to ring out.

What she heard, however, was loud, raucous laughter.

“Are you okay?” she asked, more about the laughter than the fall.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he insisted as he got to his feet and wiped the snow and slush off his jeans.  “In fact, I’m more than fine.”

“Are you drunk?” she quipped.  “Is there something other than Snapple in that bottle?”

Aaron lowered his mask to playfully stick out his tongue at his best friend.  Once he had returned his mask to the ready position, he sat down on his bench, and took a long pull from the aforementioned bottle.

“I’m perfectly sober,” he assured her.  “You know I don’t drink.  I’m annoying enough as it is sober.  I’d never subject the world to an intoxicated version of me.”

“On behalf of the world, I thank you,” she replied with a roll of the eyes.

“You’re probably wondering why I was dancing…”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?”

Holly was proud of herself for being on a roll with the wise ass remarks.  That was usually Aaron’s realm, so it felt nice to wear the crown, if even for a moment.

Aaron ignored her remark.  Not because he was offended, but because she was right, and he didn’t want to encourage her to point out his flaws.

He could do that himself.

“I’m just excited that this is the last weekend that the Orange Menace will be our President!” he shouted with glee.

Holly glanced around to see if anyone else was within earshot of his outburst, but the cold weather and slippery conditions had given them the path all to themselves.

“I didn’t think anything Trump did could evoke such a positive reaction,” she teased.

“The last ride of the crazy train is just a few days away,” he squealed with delight.  “It will be a delight to not have to check the news every night to make sure the world isn’t about to end because the lunatic in the White House is in a pissy mood, or thought he was the little dictator that could.”

Holly chuckled and sipped her tea.

“It will be nice to have a boring President again,” she agreed.  “But I’ve known you a long time, and I am well aware of your rule about no dancing in public.”

“The Footloose Proclamation is for the safety of others,” Aaron explained with a chuckle of his own.  “It’s a proven fact that my dancing frightens small children and can cause heart problems for those with cardiac issues.  But since you were the only one around, I figured it was okay to bust a move…”

He made a move to stand up like he intended to dance again, but Holly vetoed that idea with a firm hand signal indicating that he was to stop and remain in place.

“I’m happy that you’re happy then,” she told him.

“This is one of those rare times when someone walking out of my life actually puts me in a better mood,” he beamed.

“Unlike some of your exes, however, I don’t think this is the last time you’ll ever see or hear from that clown,” she warned.

“That was tough love, Holly,” he moaned.  “Now I kind of wish there was something harder than Snapple in this bottle.  Not that any alcohol in existence could ever make me forget about the things that madman has done…”

Holly simply nodded in agreement.