Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Have Mercy!

Oh my.

I just spent the evening learning to Salsa dance with a crazy hot guy.
No, the guy is not crazy. He is crazy hot!

I actually met him on Sunday.
My friends made sure I went to a party so that I’d get out of the house and get back in the scene. Another girlfriend learned of my new single status at the party – and invited me to Salsa lessons for Wednesday night, again – to make sure I’m OUT there.

Then, just before the party ended I got to talk with a cute guy I’d been eyeing. He was wearing an interesting hat. Not many guys can pull that off. He was kind and interesting. Then another friend pulled me away from him - in a panic about her missing leather jacket.

Wednesday morning, I got a phone call inquiring as to whether I planned to go to Salsa lessons that night. I wasn’t sure. I doubted I was in the mood. She named a handful of people who were planning to go and I told her I’d let her know.

As I hung up the phone, I thought… “Wasn’t that the name of the hat guy?”
I was going.

He wasn’t there.

Not until after the lesson.

Then, something transpired that NEVER happens to ME.

He motioned to the dance floor or the water fountain or something, and turned to go. I missed the signal. He was asking me to follow.

Now how on God’s green earth would I know that?!

Oh, by the way, did I mention he’s even cuter than he was three days ago? I mean. Ouch. Dang. And… SERIOUSLY! S E R I O U S L Y.

I was sure he was just informing the group that he was venturing out on his own for a while. And that’s what he ended up doing because I am not used to guys vying for my attention! I can't even see it. I totally left him hanging! Major flub.

Oh. And it should be noted that I’m a terrible dancer. I can’t learn steps. I can’t find a beat or identify a rhythm. I’m hopeless and I’m not graceful. But I did actually advance a little in the one hour lesson. First time for everything.

He returned to the group and we all watched some dancers. I was happy to sit out as my feet were sore from the lesson.

Then a guy came out of the crowd looking for a partner and I tried to look disinterested. Luckily, my girlfriend offered her hand and I was left alone with hat guy, er hot guy. A few seconds later he asked me to dance. And I got it that time.

Off we went.

Maybe my ignoring him at first was a good thing. Made me seem aloof, unobtainable. All that.

I warned him that I was just learning and indeed, a certifiably bad dancer. He said, “Good.”

We danced for the rest of the evening.

And I wasn’t even embarrassed when, after several efforts to spin and twirl me in which I went all. over. the. place. he declared, “You’re a spaz. I get dizzy when I spin you!”
All I could say was, “I know. I can’t do anything small.” But Mister, keep spinning me!

We tried all kinds of dance moves. He held me close sometimes, looking right into my eyes. Making eyes – that could have been come hither – or could have been hey Salsa is supposed to be sexy… try it woman!

But what I noticed was… I was pretty darn comfortable with him. As hot as he is, he didn’t make me feel less hot.

Actually, I had to realize that myself.

When he threw those eyes at me and I assumed it was acting – I had to screw up my courage to throw eyes back, and move my hips just a little more. I had to believe that maybe he finds me as attractive as I find him. I mean… I did look good tonight!

Let me be clear. He is not just incredibly good-looking, and FIT? yikes... does he look good! He made himself out to be kind, and courteous, interesting and intelligent. I'm not a shallow woman. Normally.

The more I screwed up my courage the braver I became.

Now, of course I realize this may not become anything. For all I know, the man is gay. Interesting hats and all. And he dresses like something out of GQ. Impeccable. Seriously.

The sort of guy I always imagined I’d end up with.
I dismissed that vision when I met Mr. Burns… all baseball caps and polo shirts and suits from Men's Wearhouse.

But it was fun for my first night out after the break up - - to have the attention of a man who is truly swoon-worthy.

Yowsa!

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