Look Ma, I'm Bellydancing

So I'm a belly dancer now. B-dog the Belly Dancer.
I went with a group of friends to celebrate Stacey's (aka "Pinhead") birthday. Her boyfriend Jason found the place -- it's a Meditteranean restaurant called "Nick's" on Blankenbaker (one exit east of Hurstbourne Lane). Not only does Nick's feature great cuisine, they had live music (keyboardist and bazouki player/ singer) and a belly dancer. After we'd finished our meal, the dancer called out the birthday girl to bust out some Mid-East moves. Stacey is one of the greatest hams I've ever known, so she was happy to oblige.
Afterwards, the entire table of 15 started chanting for me to do it. Now people, B-dog isn't a dancer. But the lady came over to my chair and led me out, so, being as I am a pleasing, accomodating sort, I took to the floor and followed her lead on a belly-jiggly dance move, then a shoulder/chest thing, and then, yes, I did the booty-shake. I backed up that bus and got jiggy with it.
Fortunately, everyone at the table with a camera had used up their film on Stacey's dancing and present-opening, so no footage exists. I cannot be blackmailed or embarrassed over this. My booty is officially retired from shaking it like a polaroid, Egyptian-style. (Well, at least until the next time I'm at Nick's ....)