Saturday, April 19, 2008

My Hips Don't Lie

Last night I went to the Latin Social at Uni. I went with my friend B. who claims she isn't a good dancer but rocked the floor. On the way into the social, we contemplated what kind of music was going to be played, my bets were on Shakira and Ricky Martin. What we didn't anticipate was Savage Garden, albeit only for a short while, but one song was more than enough.

The evening started out like one of those dreaded 7th grade dances. A few cool people were out on the floor dancing, and the rest of us were standing in small segregated groups of boys and girls. However, soon enough the lesson began and girls were lined up on one side of the room and boys were lined up opposite us. We began to learn to samba: step back 1 - 2. Step forward 1 - 2.

After learning each new combination the teacher would tell us to find a partner so we could practice together. Each time I was sent reeling back into the realms of 7th grade. Will he dance with me? Doesn't anyone want me? Can't I just dance with B.? Are they scared off by the zit on my face that is threatening to take over the world?

It was one of these times that I found myself walking towards none other than this guy! Oh no thought I. Oh No! I looked to my right and found another guy walking towards me we all met in the middle of the ballroom. The two guys looked at each other - the guy on my right turns away from us. And Pretentious Man (in a suit!) calls him back and says, "do you want her?" The other guy looks back, but keeps walking. I look at P. Man, "That's not very nice." P. Man looks down at me "What? He looked like he wanted you more than I did."

I am pretty sure if my life was a romantic comedy, I'd see P. Man one more time maybe at Borders and he'd be taking the last copy of some book i desperately wanted. He'd say something disparaging and unforgivable. I'd leave the bookstore fuming with rage at his audacity and declaring him my sworn enemy. Only to be set up with him on a blind date a few weeks later where despite our hatred we find ourselves drawn towards each other. He'd send me a mix tape filled Shakira and Savage Garden and the book I wanted via a golden retriever puppy wearing an F=MA t-shirt.

Thank god my life isn't a movie.

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