A few weeks ago I came across a CD for sale at the local Half Price Books. It was “The Best of Disco” and it was full of 21 wonderful disco hits. 21 of the best sounds of the era. It is awesome, and I love it.
So last Sunday night, I finally decide to listen to it. I was still sick as a dog, but somewhere between “That’s the way … uh huh uh huh … I like it” and “Play That Funky Music,” I got the brilliant idea to get down and get funky. I just could not help but dance. I was the Dancing Queen …
And the next day? I was in agony. Matter of fact, for the next three or four days, I could barely use my left leg. I looked like I was dragging a stump along behind me as I walked. At first I could not figure out for the life of me what I had done. “Oh, I must have just slept funny last night” was the answer I gave all of my co-workers.
On Tuesday I listened to the CD again, and it became obvious what I had done. I had a Disco Injury. The shame! The horror! At first I decided I wasn’t going to tell anyone. But I had to – I mean, come on. Who injuries themself doing the stylin’ John Travolta moves? Only I could manage to do that.
I am the Dancing Queen, and that’s the way … uh huh uh huh … I like it …