is this chair reserved ?

I was, under the impression that I could dance.   I know realise that my assumption was previous to the fact, that I had never actually tried to dance, I can only attempt to dance in  a fashion unique to me.  Dancing comes from the soul, it's like 'love' we find our own way, alls not fair in love and dancing, as some people have an edge, for one thing, smaller people are nearer to the ground and therefore don't have to fall so far, nor do the splits from a great height, touching their toes should theoretically be inches easier.  I would rather touch your toes than mine, if I was smaller in height, as my back is long and I have to bend lower, though there are some who may disagree.  long hair is not so long, on shorter people, as their bodies are shorter, it is an optical illusion.   If I buy a wig, and it says, long straight hair, the picture reflects a four foot six cutie with hair down to their buttocks, I put it on and it's brushing over my shoulders.  Is it an illusion ? the breasts of a shorter girl seem to look impressionable massive.  Men don't see these things, they don't see patterns on wallpaper, pots that want shifting or when the bin needs taking out.  They only see breasts, maybe if we painted breasts on our bins, they may begin to notice if they start to teem over the top, and need wheeling out and getting a good seeing to...that may be an option for all the lonely but busting  bins out there.  
Burlesque dancing ?  is this me ? Shall I give it a go, hell yes - I'm game for a laugh!  I saw the flyer and was intrigued.  I am known for jumping in at the deep end without being able to swim.  This I did as a child when my mother told me I could not go swimming with my friend, 15 miles away in a huge town called Doncaster.  She said not to go, which I defied and went.  I also went swimming with my friend, jumped in the deep end, not being able to swim.  Maybe this has been a theme throughout my life.  I only seem to realise, when I am drowning.  I would have been nine, we were playing a game in the pool.  St. Alfreds Pool near the bus station.  I remember jumping in and the water rushing up my nose, I kept my mouth shut, but kept falling down to the bottom.  There was panic, but I didn't allow it to break water, in three seconds of pure shocking angst I heard my father speak to me, he said
 "put your arms like in prayer, kick with your feet like a frog,  hold your head up and push "
" do not breath, I am your breath, your light, come up to me "
and this I did, without panic I followed, came to the top and splashed to the side.  Obviously me friends were unaware that I nearly drowned in that whimsical dip, as I did not through bravado say one word.  It is when I got home and I spoke to my mother who said
" I know you, that is why I forbid you to go, things happen like this, I don't tell you no to spoil your fun!"  thus I learned how to protect my own children with foresight, but sometimes the cotton wool you appy doesn't stick..free will is free.
I was not intending to drown in the Commrades Bar doing Burlesque, neither in applause nor rebuffs as it was pretty private, or so I thought. 
I dressed in loose clothing and appeared, signed the form.  The dance routine was centred around a chair, a red chair, and the song ' I put a spell on you' sang by Annie Lennox.  I love this song in Hocus Pocus, and had visions of me dancing Bette Middler style, just a few wiggles and hops skips and jumps, how nieve was I.  Firstly I tested the chair for strengh as a good workwomen never blames her tools...Now I know, it was a faulty shape shifting chair not to be trusted.  It refused point blank to slip through my legs on several occasions, and I was beginning to think bad things had reached this chair about me, and poisoned it.  At first all was sweetness, as I cuddled the back, putting a spell on it , as now it was mine.  But as the routine developed, it's true colours began to show.  In defiance, when I stood up, and opened my legs, grabbing hold of the red soft part, it froze rigid, I had to force it through, put my hands on the floor and lower down.  Strange moments followed on the buffered floor, a thrusting of hips as I gained full control over the now prostrate chair, I wiggle in supremacy over it, showing now who is master..yet it was not pliable  in my hands, it was not in unison with me, it was not part of my dance..it just laid there on the parquet looking up at he ceiling.. like nothing mattered.  I grabbed it, lifted it upright and pranced seven steps around like I had not noticed a thing..I was having my way in this dance, with this unwilling partner, and bang I pranced back down on it solid this time.  With a swinging and lifting of legs, parting of knees and splaying of limbs, the dance came to an end, for now.  More steps were added, again and again, the same routine was followed, pushing the chair through my legs and buffering the floor.  At first I was consumed with enthusiasm, but after ten goes,  I was tired of this chair not performing, and I began to blame myself.  Maybe I had expected too much.  There are some things in life, you give it your best shot, but you are not equipped with the tools at that time to make it a success.  Maybe you didn't think it all through, maybe this chair does not fall into the catagory that does burlesque dancing like it's whole life depended upon it.  Maybe, like Greta Garbo, it just 'wanted to be alone' left by the wall like a wallflower with all the other chairs just to be used for arses to settle upon, and take a load of bollocks now and again, when it suited it.  It would be happier listening to bingo and having a bag of crisps.  I had forced this chair to engage in dance against it's will, and maybe should find another chair that is more apt.  Bless the structure of it.
I know I am right, for as I was buffering on the floor with my legs prostrate straddled by the upturned chair, I caught the aghast look of the bartender, who physically projected his dismayed astonishment at the scene he had witnessed.  Also several male toilet tourists who came from the Pool room and could have used the toilet in THE POOL ROOM , came in and had a look  - with the same smirking astonishment on their face.  I don't know if I dare go back next week.