THE PENGUIN DANCE

Alan turned toward the ladies and they blushed at his interest.

They gathered on a polar ice cap, the largest mass where they  annually hold their  Ice Cold Balls. Penguins dance, to be sure, and they love the chance to “dress to the nines” and have a popping penguin time.

On the night of the big day (which was hard to determine since they were in the third month of Thursday) all the waddle-walkers came out to play. All in their penguin finery the formal affair began. The fellas in their black ties and tails. The ladies in their Dolce & Penguana gowns.

But the group was divided. The females fidgeted near the Polar Bear Bandstand. The males were much distracted, save for one solitary bird. Alan was new on this ‘berg. He couldn’t understand that with all the penguin pulchritude present, the guys had wandering eyes.

“Where are you going?” Alan asked.

“Back to the Ice Bar. There’s a hockey game on!” replied one of the like dressed brethren.

“But, what about the soiree?” Alan pursued.

“Pittsburgh is playing! Besides, those penguins by the band, they… look different” interjected a second penguin.

“We all look the same, but they are… bright and colorful. Not very penguin-like at all” chimed in the third.

Alan turned toward the ladies and they blushed at his interest. For indeed, they DID look different. Not restricted, as were the guys in their black tie and tail tuxedos. They were regaled in beautiful gowns of every color of the spectrum. Each as gorgeous as the next!

“They look pretty good to me” Alan remarked turning back to the gents.

But, his brothers were absorbed in the game. It was the mob mentality in full bloom. Alan couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“Ah, go suck an icicle!” Alan reprimanded, waving a large flipper in their direction.

And turning his back on his mates, Alan headed toward the brightly dressed throng of females.

“Any of you lovely ladies care to dance?” Alan called.

Every lady penguin to the last, waddled up to Alan. They were flapping their flippers and shifting from foot-to-foot. Alan was surrounded and he loved it, dancing with each remaining one. They had an extraordinary time. Pittsburgh lost the hockey game. Alan took all the ladies back to his igloo for a nightcap where they would party the rest of Thursday away.

There is a moral to our story: In this world of blatant sameness, choose to be different and never pass up the chance to dance!

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