Do you know Carmelo?

me:   Carmelo?  Yeah, I know Carmelo.

She:  We used to date.

me:   And?

She:  And we'd still be together if he wasn't such an asshole.

Meet & Greet

At a recent Hollywood investor meet and greet:

me: You salsa?

She:  Si.

me: Great.

She:  How did you know?

me:  You've got the look, honey.

She:  I'm Puerto Rican.

Bad decisions make good stories

Last night at Inspired Movement:

me:  It’s midnight; time for me to go.

He:  What do you mean?

me:  The vampires come out after midnight.

He:  What do you mean?

me:  I’m talking about the credit card sucking vampires.

He:  What do you mean?

me:   Are you telling me you've never handed your credit card to a woman in apple bottom                jeans and said:  

       “Here, let’s go have some fun.” 

He:  No, I haven't.

me:  Rookie.

                               

                        

Jessica Rabbit

Last fall, I picked up “Jessica Rabbit” (my own private nickname for a tattooed salsera friend of mine) and we went to Inspired Movement for a night of dancing.  On the way there, she told me how excited she felt about the upcoming Halloween.

She:  I love Halloween. I love to costume.

me:  What is your theme this year?

She:  I haven’t decided yet, but last year I was Jessica Rabbit.

My Father's Day

Sunday morning, Leila came over with a big bag of groceries.  We chopped and sliced and grilled, and had a wonderful father-daughter lunch.  Afterwards, we went over to a friend’s house for a backyard pool party with beer and bbq.  As we sat around the picnic table in our swim trunks eating fajitas, the woman next to me suddenly grabbed her throat, and frantically indicated she couldn’t breathe.  I leaped to my feet, got behind her, encircled her with my arms, and performed the Heimlich maneuver.  The first time I did it nothing happened, so I reset, and did it again, only harder.   A large piece of meat flew out of her mouth and hit the ground, where one of the dogs promptly ate it.  

When she regained her breath, she said:  “You saved my life!”  

I smiled.

Later that evening, I went to the One2One for salsa on crack with a live timba band.  After about an hour, one of my favorite salsa partners showed up.  We shared a vigorous and satisfying dance.  She had a good lead, so she excelled.  When I returned to my table, a stranger came over and stuck out his hand.  As we shook, he said:  

“Wow, y’all are really good!”  

I smiled.

Ya think?

Back in the ‘80’s, I used to live out Bee Cave Road in the Lake Hills area.  One night, my first ex-wife drove us into town for happy hour.  I looked over at the speedometer and saw 60 in a 45 zone. 

I said: “You sure are driving fast.”

Moments later, strobing red lights flooded the interior of the car.

We pulled over.  A West Lake Hills cop approached her window, and said:

“Do you know you were going 60?”

I said: “See, I told you so.”

I looked at Donna.  Steam came out of her ears.

The cop looked at us both.  Perhaps recalling his previous encounters with domestic disputes, he handed her license and registration back, said: 

“Have a nice night,” and returned to his patrol car. 

Leaving us alone.

I think that is one of the reasons we divorced.

God bless salsa

Last Sunday, I heard Timberos del Norte at the One2One bar. The band plays original songs in the Cuban timba style. They are a very energetic band, with lots of horns and a large rhythm section. Two weeks ago, the lead singer, Monica, and her husband traveled to Cuba for a music vacation. They heard multiple live bands, and came home energized with new musical ideas to share with their band mates. Several songs into the set Sunday night, Monica began to play her flute while the band backed her up. After about a minute, she had to stop because she was crying tears of joy brought on by playing the instrument she loves, with the band she loves, in front of an appreciative audience in the town she loves. When she finally composed herself, and resumed her featured part, the entire band levitated, and the crowd went wild.    God bless salsa.

Careful distinction.

Last night at SalsaMania:

She:  Hi, my name is Lauren.  Are you a professional salsa dancer? You sure look like one.

me:   No.  Professionals get paid;  I do it for free.