The doors opened letting in a gush of 30 degree wind. Leaving the performance over 200 girls paraded down the streets. The streets were empty besides your occasional cigarette smoker. As everyone marched down, some only wearing a short dress the air got colder. The walk was only a few blocks, but felt much longer. The large group turned a corner only to run into the few drunk stragglers leaving a bar. “Are you guys cheerleaders?” he enthusiastically asked. I looked up to see a man wearing a green sweater with a useless zipper at the top, fitted blue jeans and black nikes. His eyes were glossy with ambition in hopes of hearing their answer. Giggles sounded from everywhere. “No, we’re dancers” a girl answered back. His smile widened showing white teeth. A crashing laugh came pouring out of his mouth. With excited hands he grabbed his foot and tossed it in the air. “Did I do it right? Did I do the toe touch right?” he repeated over and over again. His face now flushed from the cold. All the girls walked past him with smiles on their faces. He was amused by the attention. His voice kept babbling as the parade disappeared down the street.