A Love Letter

To the woman at the Steve Earle concert who began dancing by herself and was half-heartedly ridiculed by a less-than-comfortable-with-themselves crowd, and who, while foiling an attempt to be escorted off the dance floor by the elderly security guard (during which many people applauded, to their everlasting shame,) attempted to engage said guard in a lively swing, and who elicited a heartfelt "LET 'ER DANCE" from Mr. Earle and Ms. Moorer, who were quite obviously enjoying themselves during all of this, and who opened the floor for what was arguably the best part of a bitchin' evening:

I love you.

If it's too soon, I'll back that off to "I have a huge-ass crush on you."

I don't want to scare you, you know ...