On Stage

Megan stared at the waitress.

“Dance? Me? Are you serious?”

The waitress pointed to a tiny wooden stage in the middle of the café.

“Nothing fancy. Just put on a little show for us.”

A few guests turned their chairs toward the stage.

Megan slowly climbed the three steps.

She stood there, completely naked except for her sneakers, desperately trying to cover herself with her hands.

The waitress shook her head.

“You can’t dance like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s like you’re trying to hide behind yourself.”

Megan stared at her.

I’m standing naked in a café. What exactly do you expect me to do?

She took a deep breath.

Then she started dancing.

It was awkward.

Very awkward.

She shuffled from side to side, waved her arms around, tried a spin, almost lost her balance, and caught herself at the last moment.

The audience watched, spellbound.

Megan braced herself for laughter.

Instead, someone clapped. Then someone else. Soon the whole café was applauding.

Megan blinked.

They weren’t laughing at her. They were genuinely enjoying the performance.

The waitress gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“See? You’re a natural!”

Megan looked down at herself.

No one seemed even remotely interested in the fact that she was standing there completely naked.

A man near the bar shouted:

“Great footwork!”

Megan looked down at her sneakers.

Why does everyone keep complimenting me on my shoes?