Him: Yes. My partner and I need to do some social dancing as part of the prep for the competition at the end of the month. She is bringing her beau. I thought I'd bring you.
Me: Sure. Sounds like fun. What's the dress code?
Him: Seattle semi-formal. Blouses and skirts.
Me: Um... ok. *proceed to panic about dancing and appropriate wear*
Two days later...
Me: Wow, the perfect black silky, swirly dance dress at Nordstrom Rack!
Him: It'll be pretty.
Me: *All kinds of work to dress up nice for dancing. Panicking over the idea of dancing but excited.*
We arrive. You know when someone goes to a Goth club for the first time in Crow make-up or eyeliner doodles and vampire fangs and they realize, "Wow. I way over did this."? Yeah. That was me. People were in nice pants and shirts (including the women) and fairly casual. It's not like I looked bad or too overdressed. I was just overdressed compared to the rest.
Him: That's why I've stopped trying to tell the people who go dancing with me what to wear. One, they never believe me. Two, you really have to go there and see for yourself.
Me: Well, the next time we come dancing, I know I'll be a lot more comfortable.