Shall We Dance?
Walking home from the train station some assholes started whistling and catcalling. I gave them the finger and kept on walking. My mood became even worse than when I was sitting at work.
Then "Smooth" by Santana and Rob Thomas filled my earbuds. "One, two, cha-cha-cha" overtook any bad feelings. "One, two, cha-cha-cha". I love this song. "One, two, cha-cha-cha". I always loved this song.
Back in the day, seemingly centuries ago, it was my dream to dance to this song with my then-fiance, Jason on our wedding day. I can still see it now. He's wearing a nice tux with a snazzy red tux. I've changed into a low-cut red dress reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe with a skirt that flares out gracefully with every step and turn and a pair of high heels that have since become my trademark. Unfortunately, when all the wedding planning started, I remembered one small point... well, two. 1 - I was too fat to ever wear a dress like that and 2 - Jason couldn't dance.
Not just that he couldn't dance but he was an ATROCIOUS dancer. We're talking "white boy shuffle" bad. Awkward hand movements that always resembled "the robot" bad. Like no rhythm ANYWHERE bad.
Not that I'm a great dancer, not in the least. But I can pick up steps and have decent rhythm. And grace while dancing is not as noticable as my booty-shaking (must be a Filipino thing). But I love to dance regardless of the forum or music.
When reality hit me, I was disappointed but the monster called "wedding planning" took over. Almost every thought and action leading up to the event was about "The Wedding". When I went to Texas, Jason was left with the remainder of the wedding planning and my thoughts, which used to be about getting married, soon were completely concentrated on work.
I managed to make some friends and even go to bars and clubs for almost the first time in my life. I felt so awkward the first time I walked into them. I didn't know how to act, how to order a drink, how to sit on those infernal bar stools not made for short people. I didn't know how to brush off yucky hands from touching me. Or how to give "The Look". So, like every shortcoming, I had to learn.
For New Years Eve, Jason surprised me with a visit in Texas. We crossed the border and ended up in a Mexican club. We tried to dance salsa which I had started learning in the short-time I had been there. It was awkward. I felt stupid. Here I was on a stage with the man I was going to spend my life with. And I couldn't even dance with him. And, right next to me, my dance teacher was dancing his heart out.
Today, I still don't have a partner to dance with. But I don't care. I'm still going to learn how to dance... One, Two, Cha-Cha-Cha!
Then "Smooth" by Santana and Rob Thomas filled my earbuds. "One, two, cha-cha-cha" overtook any bad feelings. "One, two, cha-cha-cha". I love this song. "One, two, cha-cha-cha". I always loved this song.
Back in the day, seemingly centuries ago, it was my dream to dance to this song with my then-fiance, Jason on our wedding day. I can still see it now. He's wearing a nice tux with a snazzy red tux. I've changed into a low-cut red dress reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe with a skirt that flares out gracefully with every step and turn and a pair of high heels that have since become my trademark. Unfortunately, when all the wedding planning started, I remembered one small point... well, two. 1 - I was too fat to ever wear a dress like that and 2 - Jason couldn't dance.
Not just that he couldn't dance but he was an ATROCIOUS dancer. We're talking "white boy shuffle" bad. Awkward hand movements that always resembled "the robot" bad. Like no rhythm ANYWHERE bad.
Not that I'm a great dancer, not in the least. But I can pick up steps and have decent rhythm. And grace while dancing is not as noticable as my booty-shaking (must be a Filipino thing). But I love to dance regardless of the forum or music.
When reality hit me, I was disappointed but the monster called "wedding planning" took over. Almost every thought and action leading up to the event was about "The Wedding". When I went to Texas, Jason was left with the remainder of the wedding planning and my thoughts, which used to be about getting married, soon were completely concentrated on work.
I managed to make some friends and even go to bars and clubs for almost the first time in my life. I felt so awkward the first time I walked into them. I didn't know how to act, how to order a drink, how to sit on those infernal bar stools not made for short people. I didn't know how to brush off yucky hands from touching me. Or how to give "The Look". So, like every shortcoming, I had to learn.
For New Years Eve, Jason surprised me with a visit in Texas. We crossed the border and ended up in a Mexican club. We tried to dance salsa which I had started learning in the short-time I had been there. It was awkward. I felt stupid. Here I was on a stage with the man I was going to spend my life with. And I couldn't even dance with him. And, right next to me, my dance teacher was dancing his heart out.
Today, I still don't have a partner to dance with. But I don't care. I'm still going to learn how to dance... One, Two, Cha-Cha-Cha!
posted by garnet @ 9:02 PM
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