Mass Exodus

I was born to dance. I love Union Square Park. Put those two together and you have a performance for the ages. I was graceful and elegant even as a child upchucking. My destiny was chosen for me.
One day I changed into my spandex body suit at the Barnes & Noble across from the park. I marched right to the open space, drawing attention from the protesters, chess players, busking musicians, commuters and those holding Free Hugs signs.
I threw my whole being into the movement. Arms flailing, leaping, crouching, whirling, splitting, heaving my lithe body from one improvised move to another. I heard scream of excitement from the crowd.
Actually, later on in the back seat of a police car, I realized they were screams of horror. How could they turn on me? No matter. Genius will not be denied.
My next target is Washington Square Park. By the water fountain, where liberals congregate.
There will be no mass exodus. Only applause.