DDR Until Further Notice
We both read the notice.
Effective immediately, all Dance Dance Revolution activities are banned. It has been deemed un-American. Any arcade carrying this game or equivalent will have their business license revoked.
“Well,” she said.
I nodded.
“Yup.”
Light rain started hitting the roof. The siren of a distant emergency vehicle carried on the breeze, bearing the eerie discordance that far off sounds often do.
“What does this mean?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It might not even hold up in court, and it’ll take a while before it takes effect.”
“So we can still go, right?”
“Yeah, for now.”
The rain picked up, the large drops sounded like pebbles as they struck the asphalt shingles above our head. The pattering was accompanied by the wet rattle of water flowing through the downspout.
“What will we do if they actually ban it?”
“Well,” I said, staring out the window. Droplets were collecting on the glass, and as they grew heavy they slipped down the surface and dragged others to the windowsill below, leaving short-lived rivers of water in their wake. “We could always get our own machine. It would be expensive, and I don’t know where we’d put it.”
“Where would we even find one?” she said.
“If they ban it, I’m sure some will go on the market because the arcades won’t need them. You can also make your own pretty easily,” I said.
“And we can figure that out now, just in case,” she said.
“Right.”
The rain was holding steady, but there wasn’t any wind. I grabbed an umbrella, big enough for two.
“Anyway, might as well enjoy it while we can,” I said. “Let’s go, they’ll make fun of us if we’re late again.”
At the Insanity Complex
100 Skate Park Drive
Madison, AL