Will dance for food

After celebrating Jon’s birthday at a Chinese restaurant in Fitzroy, we ventured out in search of more entertainment. Our gang of thirteen linked arms and descended upon Brunswick Street. Brunswick Street on a a busy Saturday night is full of buskers, people bar hopping, café lounging, and cruising around in hotted up cars.

Trampoline is nearby! Let’s get ice-cream!”

As we approached the ice-cream store, Carlo started jumping up and down excitedly. “It’s the Nutbush!” he cried. “They’re playing the Nutbush!”

Sure enough, the opening bars of Tina Turner‘s 1970s classic was filtering through the store speakers and onto the thronging footpath. It truly was as if the God of Night Time Hilarity was smiling upon us.

Carlo leapt onto one of the wooden platform stools at the front of the store. “Five! Six! Five, six, seven, eight! Right foot, right! Left! Left! Back! Back…”

Being the shameless dancesport people that we are, there was no question of joining in. Immediately, we were doing the Nutbush in front of Trampoline. The sight of a large group of people dancing on Brunswick Street obviously was not a common one because soon a crowd had gathered to gape. We were joined by a Trampoline staff member and one of the more inspired audience members.

Rounds and rounds of the Nutbush went by. People across the street were taking photos. Cars slowed down to watch the commotion. What fun! What silliness!

But all good things must come to an end and when the song faded, we cheered and high-fived each other.

Just when we thought it was all over, another store assistant bounced out of Trampoline holding two huge cups of ice-cream with a dozen wooden paddle sticks stuck into them like echidna spines.

“Thanks guys! That was fantastic!” she enthused and handed us our ice-cream reward.

“Wow! Thank you!” Elated, we dug into our unexpectedly free dessert. Mmm…Raspberry, mango, cookies and cream, and chocolate…


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