Last Friday I had a date with myself. Myself was pretty tired due to having woken up at 5 in the morning for unknown reasons to me. But since I had a commitment with me, I put myself in the shower, dragged myself to the bedroom, slapped myself on the face, dressed myself nicely and beautifully, dragged myself outside the house and drove to “I Don’t Know Where” Land.
As it was expected, mapquest.com sent me to “I Don’t Know Where” Land after many wrong turns, deviated and plain wrong directions. At this point in my life I should have already learned that that website really stinks, but for lack of alternative or just pure laziness I keep on insisting to use their services. At least I got there only 10 minutes late. Me, myself and I were happy.
At the cashier I had a choice of paying $40 dollars for 2 hours of class and free entrance to the Salsa Lounge afterwards or $50 dollars for 2 classes and Salsa Lounge plus a weird drink I would dare to try as soon as the class was over. I thought the $50 dollars deal was the best (I wonder why!). And there we were, with a bracelet stating I was shamelessly LEVEL1. I was humble enough to think that my years of Lambada were long gone and wouldn’t help me much that night.
The space was nice. People from all ages and sizes – mostly not Hispanic – were divided in three groups: Levels 1, 2 and 3. I was pleased to notice there were many Level ones and the room was getting very crowded. I would be able to mess up as much as needed without any great traumas. Self-consciousness is a terrible thing. It can make a fun moment turn into something very ugly sometimes! I also noticed there were many faces from Match.com and I felt for a moment I was at a special meeting with all lost singles of Miami!
Two couples were certainly on their first double dates – I knew that because I had coincidently checked out the profiles of the two girls online to inspect what kind of women and “competition” was out there - and I have to say that the respective men they were with fit them perfectly. After all, the internet dating thing might work for some. I can’t say that for myself since I’m finding out I’m an old fashioned lady. I like to go where people are, to see the faces, to smell the smells. To laugh and dance and just not think about any of these dating stuff. I definitely don’t like dating. I prefer making friends and falling in love with them. Actually, I don’t like the “falling” part of it. It makes me stupid!
And there I was: one, two, three; one, two, three. Front and back and to the right and to the left.
My two neighbors, the left one a young guy at about 23 and the right side guy at about 39 kept bumping into me. I lost my balance, I lost my rhythm. And then I found them all. And one, two, three; one, two, three. Front and back and to the right and to the left. And I was lost, I was laughing, and then a new step. One, two, three; one, two, three. Totally out of shape, completely out of balance. One, two, three; one, two, three.
Suddenly, after about 20 minutes, it hit my body, it hit my soul and it hit me in the head like a meteor. They finally put the music on and I couldn’t stop laughing. My body was shaking all about. Oh! What a wonderful feeling! I haven’t had that feeling since, since… I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter, it felt really good. I’m not even sure if I like Salsa music, but who really cares as long as my body is following every note, feeling every vibration? I don’t. In fact, I’m becoming an expert on not caring about many unimportant things. I feel so much more relaxed.
After many single steps we were to find a pair and start stepping on each others feet. I find interesting that women in general have a better ability to sense the sizes of their bodies and the space they take. Men tend to be more wobbly, more all over the place. It can get boring. But we were all shamelessly Level One, I had to remind myself of that. I was far from being the queen of Salsa that night.
Class was over, weird drink in hand. I sat down to rest my unaccustomed feet. 11:30 PM. Many new faces started to invade the space, the lights were out, the music was loud. Me, myself and I were tired but knowing myself well, I could not leave without trying my new steps with someone who was at least Level 2! And so I stood up and walked to the middle of the room trying to find someone who would be patient enough to turn me around for a couple of songs. There I stood in amazement watching people of all walks of life turning to the right, turning to the left as if there was no tomorrow. Beautiful, I thought.
A short gentleman, at about my shoulder height stood next to me. Short hair, impeccable ironed light blue shirt, kaki pants and shinny pointy white shoes. He looked at me, from top to bottom, like he was measuring me to see if I: first would fit in the attractive category, second to make sure I wasn’t so much taller than him. I guess I passed the test since he moved towards me and offered me his hand. I had followed his eyes through the whole process and was impressed by that little man’s self-confidence. Specially because I had already noted that all man with shinny pointy white shoes were good dancers. I looked back at him and showed him my shamelessly Level One bracelet. He smiled and turned around in search of a more appropriate partner.
A few songs later he came back and insisted I danced with him. His name was Juan and he danced very, very well. He made me look pretty good on the dance floor and I was starting to think it was all my doing. But Juan, after finding out I was Brazilian, liked me more than I could handle. On top of deciding to speak Spanish to me assuming I could understand him at all, he wanted to go get some fresh air…
I was heroic enough for not having stepped on his feet once but, my friend Juan, who was about to fall in love with the shamelessly Level One Brazilian woman, watched me disappear in the middle of the crowd never to be found again!
And back home we went, blisters on our feet, smile on our faces, soreness in our bodies. Me, myself and I.
As it was expected, mapquest.com sent me to “I Don’t Know Where” Land after many wrong turns, deviated and plain wrong directions. At this point in my life I should have already learned that that website really stinks, but for lack of alternative or just pure laziness I keep on insisting to use their services. At least I got there only 10 minutes late. Me, myself and I were happy.
At the cashier I had a choice of paying $40 dollars for 2 hours of class and free entrance to the Salsa Lounge afterwards or $50 dollars for 2 classes and Salsa Lounge plus a weird drink I would dare to try as soon as the class was over. I thought the $50 dollars deal was the best (I wonder why!). And there we were, with a bracelet stating I was shamelessly LEVEL1. I was humble enough to think that my years of Lambada were long gone and wouldn’t help me much that night.
The space was nice. People from all ages and sizes – mostly not Hispanic – were divided in three groups: Levels 1, 2 and 3. I was pleased to notice there were many Level ones and the room was getting very crowded. I would be able to mess up as much as needed without any great traumas. Self-consciousness is a terrible thing. It can make a fun moment turn into something very ugly sometimes! I also noticed there were many faces from Match.com and I felt for a moment I was at a special meeting with all lost singles of Miami!
Two couples were certainly on their first double dates – I knew that because I had coincidently checked out the profiles of the two girls online to inspect what kind of women and “competition” was out there - and I have to say that the respective men they were with fit them perfectly. After all, the internet dating thing might work for some. I can’t say that for myself since I’m finding out I’m an old fashioned lady. I like to go where people are, to see the faces, to smell the smells. To laugh and dance and just not think about any of these dating stuff. I definitely don’t like dating. I prefer making friends and falling in love with them. Actually, I don’t like the “falling” part of it. It makes me stupid!
And there I was: one, two, three; one, two, three. Front and back and to the right and to the left.
My two neighbors, the left one a young guy at about 23 and the right side guy at about 39 kept bumping into me. I lost my balance, I lost my rhythm. And then I found them all. And one, two, three; one, two, three. Front and back and to the right and to the left. And I was lost, I was laughing, and then a new step. One, two, three; one, two, three. Totally out of shape, completely out of balance. One, two, three; one, two, three.
Suddenly, after about 20 minutes, it hit my body, it hit my soul and it hit me in the head like a meteor. They finally put the music on and I couldn’t stop laughing. My body was shaking all about. Oh! What a wonderful feeling! I haven’t had that feeling since, since… I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter, it felt really good. I’m not even sure if I like Salsa music, but who really cares as long as my body is following every note, feeling every vibration? I don’t. In fact, I’m becoming an expert on not caring about many unimportant things. I feel so much more relaxed.
After many single steps we were to find a pair and start stepping on each others feet. I find interesting that women in general have a better ability to sense the sizes of their bodies and the space they take. Men tend to be more wobbly, more all over the place. It can get boring. But we were all shamelessly Level One, I had to remind myself of that. I was far from being the queen of Salsa that night.
Class was over, weird drink in hand. I sat down to rest my unaccustomed feet. 11:30 PM. Many new faces started to invade the space, the lights were out, the music was loud. Me, myself and I were tired but knowing myself well, I could not leave without trying my new steps with someone who was at least Level 2! And so I stood up and walked to the middle of the room trying to find someone who would be patient enough to turn me around for a couple of songs. There I stood in amazement watching people of all walks of life turning to the right, turning to the left as if there was no tomorrow. Beautiful, I thought.
A short gentleman, at about my shoulder height stood next to me. Short hair, impeccable ironed light blue shirt, kaki pants and shinny pointy white shoes. He looked at me, from top to bottom, like he was measuring me to see if I: first would fit in the attractive category, second to make sure I wasn’t so much taller than him. I guess I passed the test since he moved towards me and offered me his hand. I had followed his eyes through the whole process and was impressed by that little man’s self-confidence. Specially because I had already noted that all man with shinny pointy white shoes were good dancers. I looked back at him and showed him my shamelessly Level One bracelet. He smiled and turned around in search of a more appropriate partner.
A few songs later he came back and insisted I danced with him. His name was Juan and he danced very, very well. He made me look pretty good on the dance floor and I was starting to think it was all my doing. But Juan, after finding out I was Brazilian, liked me more than I could handle. On top of deciding to speak Spanish to me assuming I could understand him at all, he wanted to go get some fresh air…
I was heroic enough for not having stepped on his feet once but, my friend Juan, who was about to fall in love with the shamelessly Level One Brazilian woman, watched me disappear in the middle of the crowd never to be found again!
And back home we went, blisters on our feet, smile on our faces, soreness in our bodies. Me, myself and I.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário