My Latin Lover

"What are your plans for this weekend?"

"Let me check." I look at my agenda. "Nothing."

(Aside: For those of you who don't know, I actually have no life right now. As in, I have no job, no actual place to live, and no school. It makes scheduling quite easy and, in reality, nonexistent.)

Fast-forward to Friday night. The scene is a dark dance floor with a disco ball and colored lights. There are about five couples on the dance floor, including one of my home teachers. Small world. Anyway, then there's Liel and me on the sidelines. I've never actually been Latin dancing, so she's teaching me all the steps: bachata, merengue, cumbia, salsa, etc.

As the night progresses, the club slowly starts to fill up. Kira gave each of us a warning to stay away from the old creepy men, so Liel and I did our share of turning guys down. (Which actually made me feel horrible. It got better as the night went on.)

Then it happens. I look across the dance floor and see a tall, dark, handsome young man. Our eyes meet, and I begin to melt. I've never seen such beautiful eyes. We begin walking towards each other, and meet in the middle of the dance floor. He puts his arm firmly around my waist, and we begin to dance like there's no one in the room but us. We hold each other close and I giggle as he whispers sweet-nothings in my ear, in Spanish. The song ends, but we don't notice. We just keep dancing... I just don't want to let him go.

And reality sets in. There was no real Latin lover. I couldn't even write about my fake lover any longer because I was starting to gag a little bit. I haven't found him. Yet. There are still a lot of Fridays left. Who knows what could happen.

Overall, it was a really fun experience. I sweat a lot, moved my hips a lot (they were actually sore afterward)... but I have yet to get used to running into other people whilst dancing. It didn't seem to bother anyone else. Liel told me it bothers me because I'm American. That makes sense.

P.S. Louis, I know you changed my playlist.