My Favorite Dance.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

Man oh man, was she fine.
Like the last drop of apple juice out the bottle.
I had to stop and savour her beauty.

The music was a wonderful bachata remix.

And the way she moved to the rhythm indicated that this was her favorite song.

In a sea of bodies dancing and grooving to the melodies, she stood out like a shining star.

In a room full of echoing bongo drums and guitarras, I drowned everything out.

I waited patiently for the song to end.
Like the smoothest of individuals, I shuffled from side to side.
Trying to imitate the most suave PapiSongo imaginable.

But in reality, I definitely look like Charlie Brown doing his two step shuffle.

It felt like this was the longest bachata remix known to man.
As if the Bachata Gods were determined to have me shuffle till the end of time.
As if Jesús Christo himself had determined that the punishment for my sins was this purgatory.

At last, the singer echoed his final lullabies to his long lost lover.
This is what I imagined he was saying, I do not speak spanish.
The beat fades away, the crowds disperse, the timing could never be more right.

Like a cool Jive-Turkey, I make a non-direct route to my future dance.
Making sure not too seem to eager, I play it cool, and walk slow and calm.

But Like a phantom out of the corner of my eye, as if a mosquito whirred by.
I see him, Player Two.

He rushes past me, and takes the lead.

Like an Indy 500 race, I have just been overlapped and overtaken.
It was like this guy was riding my draft and at the very last moment, shattered my dreams.

From the distance, I see him ask her to dance and she graciously accepts.

How dare he?
Didn’t he know I saw her first?
How could he not have known?
I had already mentally asked her to dance. And she so eloquently and politely already accepted.
What is this blasphemy?
Am I going to have to smack this fool???

But I regain my composure, and sulk over to the side.
Sure I could dance with somebody else…
But I don’t want to, I want to save my energy for this SPECIAL dance.
Once my mind is made, there ain’t no changing it dawg !

So it’s back to two stepping and critiquing. What I do Best.

I two step my ass off, while i criticize this guys style.

– “Crikes, I wouldn’t do that.”
– “Man I am so much more smooth.”
– “Sheesh, learn to lead, guy!”
– “OK, well that was pretty cool.”
– “Well, that was a nice pattern.”
– “Damn, I wish I could do that.”
– “OK, this guy is the real deal !”

As if the veil had been lifted from my eyes, jealousy turned to hatred!!

Fuck, this guy is really good !!!

How dare he be so damn good!!!
Goddamned assholes, always making us regular folk look bad.

I watched as this dance evolved into something much much more.
An absolute clinic on how to dance bachata.
An absolute clinic on how to perform.

As If I was watching a performance show on the dance floor, this was absolutely amazing.
I could not believe two individuals could share such a connection.

It was as if this song was made for this moment, in this time, for these two individuals.

As if Jesús Christo himself had determined my sins were abolished, and blessings were bestowed.

This dance, dare I say it.
This dance, brought a tear to my eye.

**Fuck, am I getting emotional over a dance?
Yes, yes I am.**

For the first time in my life, a bachata song ends too soon.

i want to scream out “BRAVISSIMO!!!! ENCORE! ENCORE!”

Like a fat kid going back for his 3rd plate of cake, I need more.

The first dance was inspirational, the second would be no less miraculous.

That dance could have healed the blind and the sick.
That dance could have satiated the hungry.
That dance could have ended wars.

But Like Dracula stealing away into the night, he hugs her and walks off.

This pretentious ass-hole!
How dare he make such beautiful art.
How dare he take me on such a rollercoaster ride of emotions.

From Jealousy, to Hatred, To Envy to…. to…

OMG, dare I say it… LOVE!!

**For Christ sakes man, get it together. **

That dance makes me want to start my New Years Resolution Early.
That dance makes me want to profess my undying love for this random stranger.
That dance makes me want to scream out “Yo quiero Taco Bell”!!

But it’s over, the next song is queued up by the DJ, and once again –

My opportunity arises.
But I think to myself, how in the hell do you follow up after that?

Turn on the lights, kill the music. Everyone is done dancing after a performance like that.

I begin to shuffle and two step.
Side to side.

By myself.
In the corner.

**Fuck, I want some Taco Bell**

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