Dancing on Tables in Paris

I don’t know why, but somehow, in my 20’s, I ended up dancing on many tables. As a professional belly dancer, I have been pulled up to dance on hundreds of tabletops, but I’m surprised how often I have ended up dancing on tables while incognito, traveling in my regular clothes.

On our first night in Paris in 1995, we were exhausted from our long bus ride from London to Amsterdam to Paris, but we were in Paris, and we didn’t want to miss a moment! Kim and I ended up in St. Michel, enchanted by the twinkling lights strung across the walkway, laughing with all the festive people, inhaling the smell of honey, baklava, and exotic spices wafting through the air. We were sauntering along, taking it all in, when I heard the familiar sound of live effervescent Greek music. I started to snap my fingers and swing my hips to make Kim laugh, and the owner shouted at me in French and waved me into the restaurant. There he pulled a chair in front of a table, and held out a hand to help me stand on it. I have no idea if it was actually a table or a tall barstool. I stood right up without thinking twice and started to dance. Whenever I end up dancing on a table or a barstool, the first thing I do is scan the people around to find the tallest person with the broadest shoulders, should the table collapse and I end up needing broad shoulders to keep me from landing on someone’s grandmother. I raised my arms over my head, and started to dance.

This was the type of Greek restaurant that throws dishes and breaks them for fun, so as I danced, I watched the plates fly across the room and smash into the wall. The diners in the restaurant all stood up and cheered, forming a circle around me, whistling and holding hands and dancing together. Kim stood nearby, clapping and cheering, and every time I glanced over I could see her face beaming at me. One of the waiters linked arms with her and taught her some of the Greek dancing steps. I don’t remember how long I was up there, or how I climbed down. All I know is that there are unforgettable moments when you are traveling, moments where you and groups of strangers who don’t speak the same language, are suddenly swept into a moment so joyous, language isn’t needed.

And now I had a moment to add to my collection of magical moments, where if people asked me what I did in Paris, I could say, “Oh, you know, the usual, I danced down the street under twinkling lights and ended up dancing on a table, surrounded by people so jubilant, I may as well have been floating.