For as long as I can remember I have always been terrified of dancing. I can't step foot on a dance floor without immediately getting self-conscious or angry. I imagine some sort of childhood trauma of having to square dance in elementary physical education class... an entire friggin' week of every year for probably three years. Yet with all this pent up fear I feel, there are several eye-witness accounts of me dancing like a madman across the shop floor at work. What they didn't know was as I was welding, I had pulled away from the seam I was working on and when the wire touched the metal it arced causing a small explosion and red hot wire shrapnel to fly around. What I didn't know was when that happened a piece of the still glowing wire had passed right through one of my shoe lace holes and hit my sock. A few seconds later my coworkers in the area see me throw down my whip (the welding gun) and start jumping around while violently flailing my arms. Because of the welding mask I looked completely expressionless and my profanities could not be heard over the noise of the shop. I would have loved to have seen this from the outside. When the wire cooled and I finally raised my shield there were five people staring at me with what looked like great concern for my sanity... I went back to work.

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