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.

The Mexican mafia

me:  What’s it like being the most beautiful woman in the club?

        She looked sideways at me.

me:  No, I’m serious.  What’s it like?

She:  No one talks to me.

me:  Except me.

She:  Yes.

me:  Let’s dance.

After:

She:  When I dance bachata with you, you make me feel like a queen.

me:  Well, you should, because you are a queen.

Good advice is hard to find

me:  Happy birthday on the big 6-0.  Tell me something you've learned.

She:  You know how you meet someone, and they're really charming, and things are going great, and you're thinking of moving in together?

me:  Sure.

She:  Well, before you do, first run a criminal background check on your loverboy.

me: (With eyebrows raised)   Gosh.  You sound like two of my old girlfriends,  each of whom claimed five ex-husbands.  You could not deceive those women.  They had already heard every lie.

The Nordic Goddess

While attending a house salsa party about three months ago, I chatted up Jacqueline, the Nordic Goddess.  With auburn hair, peaches and cream skin, and long dancer's legs, she looked like an Orange Creamsicle come to life.

She:  What do you do?

me:   I'm a Leisure Consultant.

She:  A what?

me:  Yeah, I coach my clients on how to enjoy life.

My advice:  Step One: Quit your job.  Step Two:  Do what you love.

She:  What if I'm already doing that?

me:  Then you don't need my advice.



Then last week at the Pura Austin salsa social:

She:  Hi!  I just stopped in to tell you goodbye!

me:   Oh?

She:  I booked a one-way flight to Spain today!  I leave next Monday!

me:    How nice.  Let's dance.

The Brazilian professor

 

    The eleven piece Cuban timba band, Timberos del Norte, played at the One2One bar Sunday night.  The sparse crowd included a Brazilian college professor of my recent acquaintance.  She danced samba with Brazilian flair, and enjoyed salsa as a second love.  During the break, the DJ played a cha cha cha.  I asked her to dance, but she said she had last danced cha cha many years ago, and was unsure of herself as a follow.  I told her no worries, all she had to do was look beautiful, and I’d take care of the rest.  She smiled, and took my hand.  We were the only couple on the dance floor.  About half way through the song, she got her cha cha legs back, and we shared a lovely partnership.  I especially loved her cha cha walk.  The song ended, so we returned to our table, high as kites.  As we sat down,  a woman spectator came over to her, spontaneously hugged her, and told her how beautiful she looked while dancing.  The Brazilian beamed, while I nodded in agreement.  

        I believe that out of all the things a woman can do, she is at her most beautiful when dancing cha cha cha.

                                                             Bruce Lee:  1958 Hong Kong    
                                                           Cha Cha Championship Winner.