Conversations

this morning’s conversation:

Radio: …..and now on focus on the family…..

Me: what?  hunh?  oh, time to get up……drool
Muscles: WHAT, NEGRESS NOW YOU BETTA AXE SOMEBODY
Me: but Muscles-suh/ma’am, I jist needs to git up now.  i gots all this stuff to do…
Muscles: yeah, whatever…you ain’t going nowhere’s. and that’s what’s really good.
Me: uhm, but, uhm, yeah so uhm, yawn…snore…zzzz…zzzz…uhm, wait what was I talking about?
Muscles: yeah, you heard ‘taka, taka taka taka’ last night didn’t you? and now you can’t hear me?  NEGRESS, PLEASE!
Me: but i thought you liked the exercise
Muscles: girl, please, you on LOCK DOWN….
Me: droooool
Muscles: you ain’t going nowheres!
Me: uuuuuuuggggh. pain, weeping and gnashing of teeth…snore…snort….fart….aaaaah

Muscles: WHAT!  Muscles, fool, ya heard?

The above conversation occured about 7:30ish this morning after an intense night of Salsa dancing at Club Havana.  it was an unexpected night.  WP and I sat in front of the televistion recognizing that we could very easily change from our club outfits into pajamas but having promised Lucho that we would meet him there, we had no choice but to appear.  And after a sucky Friday and Saturday, I’m glad that I did.  The club was live!  Music was hot!  And besides Lucho, my two other favorite salsa dancers were there which made the night even better.  Even some of the Naija contingency were there.

Last Night’s Conversation:

When we first walked into the club, I noticed a dude standing by the wall checking us out but when he asked WP to dance; I was like, “Okay, I’m cool.  He’s feeling her.”  Then he asked me to dance and the following conversation ensued:

Him: Are you Jamaican or Haitian?
Me: Neither, I’m African. Where are you from?
Him: Turkey
Me: Oh!  Okay. 
(Hmm…that would explain his desire to do Turkish style hand movements during salsa)
Him: Where in Africa?
Me: West Africa (Dude, what is he doing?  I can’t follow him)
Him: What party of West Africa?
Me: Ghana (He’s one of those guys who can’t really dance hunh?)
Him; Oh, my best friend is from Senegal. 
Me: Oh, cool (Okay, so what am I supposed to be doing now?  Oh, okay, got it)
Him: He married a Turkish girl and they have the most beautiful children.
Me: I bet (oh no!  Is he trying to drop hints!?? Dang, that’s bold)

The man was so enamored of me that he stayed closed to us all night.  He would show up randomly to dance with us.  He watched me dance.  He even informed me that he had requested Reggaeton (clearly after seeing how I dug it).  WP told me that he told her that he could watch me dancing all night; that he loved the passion in my dancing and that if he had me by his side he would never grow old.  FOR REAL THO???  It ain’t that deep dawg.  It really isn’t  and I didn’t dig him but I must admit that I dug his passion for me.

About papillion

Intense Often Moody Transparent Exquisitely sensitive Animated Never satisfied Curious Eternal Romantic Creative Devotedly Christian Encouraging Multi-layered Loving Quick Judge Critical Forever evolving View all posts by papillion

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