Man disco dancing in car park

Dave put his pint down. “You’re shitting me”
“No”
“In the fucking car park?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you”
“Look I’ve explained about that. Now trust me, there’s a bloke in the car park behind Kwik Save and he’s dancing.”
By the time we got to him he’d drawn a crowd. Dave hadn’t believed me, he never does, and the price of his disbelief was a place at the back of the crowd behind a fat woman in leggings.
Sweat ran down the man’s face. There was no music, and the crowd didn’t say much. He was giving it loads.
“If you’d believed me in the first place” I said “we’d have a better view.”
“You’re a congenital liar though.”
“True. But I’ve explained about that.”
“You’re a fucker.”
The man danced for some time, grunting with effort and throwing wild shapes with his arms. A small child cried. A group of lads in tracksuits threw a couple of desultory coke cans. After a while we all went away. Dave and I were last to leave as we hadn’t had a good view on account of Dave not trusting a word I said. I checked back after a couple of days and he’d gone.