Friday, January 18, 2008

All She Wants to do is Bailar, Bailar, Bailar

One of my friends just finished her Master's Degree and is moving to D.C. She and her roommates are really cool girls. They all seem very nice, sophisticated, and like they're going places. I call them the Activist Girls because they're all involved in various changing-the-world activities. Besides the above mentioned qualities, these girls also love to dance. They go Salsa dancing at a local club from time to time. I have only been with them once, but I love dancing (especially Latin dancing), and have been wanting to go again. Therefore, when I heard the Activist Girls were going one last time before the one moves to D.C., I had to go.

One thing that should be understood is that although I LOVE to dance, I usually end up quite depressed by the end of the night because I don't get asked to dance. In fact, my roommates are familiar with my Oreo-in-milk-dipping that usually concludes my evening - I drown my sadness in milk and Oreo's at the end of the night before going to bed. Well, I had a great time with the girls when I went before, but I didn't get asked to dance that night, like always. This being said, I did not expect to dance tonight, either, but (just like my first date) I think the Lord blesses me with a wonderful, tailored-to-me experience every once in a while that just makes my day smile.

The night started like all the others: I was excited to dance but felt a little awkward. I danced a little, here and there, while watching some of the girls dance with the guys they had talked into coming with them, as well as with the Latin men who asked them to dance. After awhile, though, while I was kind of leaning on this pillar, I suddenly felt a hand on my back and realized that one of the guys from our little group was leading me out to the floor - yeah! We probably didn't look all that great out there, but I was just happy that he'd asked me. Then (as I always think when a guy finally asks me to dance), I thought to myself, 'Well, I guess the night is complete. I don't need to be depressed now. Yeah!'

A little later I wandered off to sit with some of the group. Then, a couple of minutes into that, this white guy came walking by and he stopped to talk.

"Didn't you come to dance?"


"Then why aren't you out there?"


"How do you expect to get asked to dance if you're sitting here, far away from the floor?"

Then, kindly, he asked me to dance. Whoa - asked to dance by a complete stranger - amazing!

Adding to the coolness, he actually knows how to dance - he's taken classes and knows how to keep time, how to lead, etc., etc. Unfortunately for him, his partner is not good at keeping track of the count, is even worse at following, probably had bad breath, and is not equal to him in attractiveness. But, he was totally nice and patient and tried to teach me. He put up with me for several songs, so I had the time of my life. I wanted to get his number and ask him to come and teach me some more sometime, but I didn't. Instead we left it at, "Maybe I'll see you around sometime." He was probably thinking, 'Why did I ask that girl? She totally did not know what she was doing.' However, I'm glad that he put up with me for as long as he did. So, what started as an evening of awkwardness with me trying to prep myself for the inevitable depression that would follow, ended with a cute guy teaching me some steps and making my night. I guess it just goes to show that you never can tell. One thing's for certain, though, and that is that I had better get back there again sometime!

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