Dance With Me… Spew

30 04 2010

The other night some friends and I went to a cafe on Park Rd for sme coffees after choir, like we do every week. When we arrived, there was the usual live music – the cool little guy on the accordion, keyboard also in front of him, singing french style songs, in the french themed cafe. But this week, there was also a couple salsa dancing, and quite well at that! We deduced they must be from a salsa dancing school, as the man was wearing a shirt with a picture of salsa dancers on it, and so of course I figured that perhaps there were people from a dancing school here to show off as a method of advertisement, and also just for good fun and entertainment. My friend Jackie and I were engaging in some silly dance moves of our own, when suddenly an old man, round around the middle, with a slightly scary squishy face started coming towards us with his hand outstretched. Or rather, started coming towards ME. Matty pointed out that this odd person was coming at me, and once he was close enough he said “come dance with me”.

My first reaction – “Nothanksbai!”. The man wouldnt accept that, so he asked again, multiple times. All of which I replied “No thank you, I really don’t want to”. I even sat down behind Jackie as if to say I want to sit down, not dance. He refused to leave, and my friends were having too good a time laughing at this weirdo, so they kept saying “Go on, Bonnie! Go for it!” and eventually, after hiding behind Matty for a while, I was bullied into just going. It wasn’t so bad, I figured, because ths man was dressed in all black and had a strong Spanish like accent. I assumed he was with the dance school and the instructors were asking random ladies around the restaurant to come up and learn a thing or two just for shits and giggles. So I conceded to think, well, all nice girls in the films dance with sweet lonely old men for a laugh, I could just pretend its like that. I was oh so wrong.

A few seconds on the dance floor made me realise that not only was this old man not a dance instructor, he was also quite terrifying. He tries to teach me the Samba (or the dance of luurve…ew) only he teaches me two steps, which he teaches me wrong (I learnt a little salsa in high school) and we’re just stepping around to this beat that was only in his head, and not in the music, and I tell you, he was gripping my hands HARD. I turn, a little frightened and giggly, back to my friends to see if they might come to my rescue. They’re still just in stitches, so instead I turn back and the mans face has turned from sleazy and giddy to rather cross. “You don look at dem, you look here at me!” he says in a creepy accent. At this point I’m like OMG this is fucking ridiculous, and I go to just leave and run back to my friends, and he GRIPS my hands even harder! I had to literally yank them twice to get his hands fully off mine, and was getting to the level of scared that had me wishing I’d invested in a rape whistle and some pepper spray. I run off and hide behind Matty once again.

By this stage, our friend Glen has also shown up and is laughing most heartily with the rest. As my friends try to include me in the laughter and the fun of the weird occurrance, the guy actually comes back over to us, fuming, and decides to tell me off. “There is a rule! You are not allowed to just do that. You cannot just leave a Samba! The rule is, you must say to me – excuse me, I wish to leave. I want to tag out – You dont just run off. Thats so very rude!” I tell him I’m sorry (though I couldnt have seemed more uninterested in dancing with him from the start) and he waves me off angrily, walks over to the man playing the music and, in his rage, makes him STOP playing, so that he can publicly bitch about me, saying “dat girl she no good”. Of course he is just another crazy in the city and no one even bothers to look up. Even the musician seems to think this guys a bit of a quack and recommences playing.

Needless to say I was completely humiliated, but at least not so much as he was. We have yet to understand his motives. I mean, did he really think a 21 yr old girl – who told him numerous times she didnt want to dance with him – would immediately fall for his old man dancing prowess and sleazy Spanish charms (or lack thereof on both accounts)? Forgive me, Generalissimo, but this was one fair maiden (cough) who found you most ungallant.




6 responses

30 04 2010

I lol’d.

30 04 2010


30 04 2010

I know right. Why do I attract old people and freaks?

1 05 2010

aww bon, this is horrifying! i know what you mean about old men and freaky peeps though. i must get hit on by them at work at least once of twice a shift…. they are usually old, bald, awkwardly stare and have a somewhat old man stench lingering around them. every time i walk past i get a wif and try not to show my disgust on my face :s

this is not charming people!!!

2 05 2010

It really was as bad as it sounds…perhaps worse!

I’m leavning now. I want to tag out of this comment. Just so you know.

2 05 2010

Yes. Leavning.

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