Life, Love, Dancing...an excerpt - pt 3

Here is the link to part 1 of Life, Love and Dancing.
Here is the link to part 2 of Life, Love and Dancing.
I will try to post sections each Tuesday - last week's holiday threw my schedule off a bit, so forgive me and Enjoy part 3:


"Want a drink?" He looked down at me with those intoxicating eyes.
I stopped swirling enough to answer, "No thanks. I've reached my limit. I could use a glass of water, though."
He smiled, nodded, got up and stepped to the bar.
I leaned my head back against the leather and scanned the crowd. My vanilla skin toned friend walked around to help clear tables. He was always considerate and professional. I have watched many give similar types of parties and they could careless that empty glasses stacked up. I guess that most reasoned that it was the wait-staff's responsibility.

Paul returned with my water and his own glass of brown liquid. We tapped glasses before we took sips.
"So, I carry myself like someone from the Bible?" He referred back to my earlier comment.
"Yea, something about you. Some would say you have an old soul."
He chuckled, "I've heard that before. I wanted to say something to you earlier but didn't want to disrespect your people."
I glanced around at "my people". My chocolate friend was bopping his head to the grooves with his eyes closed and a beer bottle in his hand. My vanilla toned friend was talking to the female bartender.
"They're cool. Malcolm, the light skinned one and I have known each other for over ten years from back in DC. I just met his cousin, Tre when we bumped into each other again here two years ago." I decided not to tell him that Malcolm is married. If Paul is in my life long enough, he'll find out all the specifics he needs to know.
"Huh, a DC girl. How you like New York?"
"I love it. I have the best of both worlds now."
"How's that?"
"I was raised in the best city to grow up Black, now I live in the best city to be creative. What about you, where you from?"
"Right here, baby." Paul's dark eyes sparkled. Because of his soft inflection, I wasn't sure if Paul meant baby as an endearing term for me already or if he was simply ending that sentence as most native New Yorkers do.
"Where's your family from?" I have learned in my few years as a New Yorker that most New York residents have strong ties to other countries, no matter how many generations have lived on The New York soil. Paul was clearly a Latino Brother. I also have learned to never assume which Hispanic region one is from if you detect Hispanic origin.
"Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico. And your family?"
"DC and Virginia. No, I'm not Puerto Rican, as most think I am."
"Yes, I also thought that. What is your family's cultural background?"
I smiled as I wondered if he spoke so proper and formal sounding all of the time, "Negras Americanas." I attempted in my bit of rusty Spanish. I have trained myself to say Black American or African American proudly. Here in the city of a million cultures I initially would answer "Just African American." or "Just Black." Surrounded by so many cultures I felt as if I were not exotic enough. Paul's smile widened and I further explained. "Yep, I'm a descendant of the great American slave. I have the same mix as you, but my European ancestors didn't speak Spanish."
Malcolm walked by and I seized the opportunity to introduce them. Paul half-way stood as they slapped palms and entwisted fingers then he returned to his sitting position as their hands slid apart.

I stifled a yawn. Paul noticed, "Tired?"
I grinned at him sheepishly, "Yes, it's way past my bedtime. I need to head home."
"Well, let me go to the men's room then I'll walk you out."
"Gracia-" I smiled up at him as he rose from his seat.

I leaned over to Malcolm who had returned to our corner vantage point, "What time is it?"
He checked his PDA, "Almost Three."
"Good Lawd. I need to get home."
"You gonna be alright?"
"Yea, Paul's gonna walk me to my car. I'll text you as soon as I get home safely, alone."
Malcolm laughed, "You're grown. Full grown."
"Yea, I know and this is still New York. Land of the crazies."
I noticed Paul standing near the bar waiting as I said my good byes. I waved into the smoker's room to the regulars, hugged the DJ, Tre and Malcolm before joining Paul to exit.

*click on image for its source.

Life, Love, Dancing: an excerpt in progress, pt. 2

Last week I was moved to post part 1 of Life, Love and Dancing. I will try to post sections each Tuesday.
Here is Part 2, Enjoy:

After dancing that set, I went to the ladies room. Sometimes, I simply need to step away from the noise and look closely in a mirror, so as not to lose myself in the seduction of the night. I returned and was surprised to find him standing next to his seat, dancing. He chose to dance without a partner. I walked to rejoin my friends in our corner spot where we could watch everyone who came and went. I glanced his way periodically, wondering to myself what I found fascinating about him. Maybe I was intrigued by the fact that he seemed to simply appear. His caramel skin tone was inviting, but he was thicker than most men I engaged with. He moved moderately, in what some would describe as a two-step, but I could see that his two-step was anything but simple. I sensed that the brother could work it on the dance floor.

I didn't ponder it for long when the DJ changed gears, mixed in old school hip-hop and kicked the party up a notch. Almost everyone squeeze onto the dance floor. I turned toward him in hopes that he would accept my nonverbal invitation to join me on the dance floor. He complied teasingly; he smiled and took a couple of steps toward me then hesitated. I took a step toward him, but did not want to leave the dance area away from the safe energy of the group. He slid smoothly into place beside me. It was clear he had perfected B-Boy moves, but he was adaptable enough to temper them in this setting. I love a man who has the ability to "break" or lock, along with the discernment of when not to take it "over the top". I smiled inside and out. We sensed each other's rhythms and moved in sync. He smiled down at me and my eyes glowed back at him.

We danced closer.
"What's your name?"
"Cameron. Yours? Wait, let me guess. I bet it's biblical."
He smiled and nodded, "How did you guess?"
"I don't know. Just something about the way you carry yourself. You look like an Emmanuel."
He shook his head, "Paul."
"Paul? Hmm, that sounds too simple for you. You look like your name would be more exciting."
He chuckled and his eyes sparkled down at me.
There was something about his dark eyes surrounded by those long lashes looking down at me that made my insides swirl with delight.

One of the party regulars came out of the smoker's room and proceeded to take it "over the top". I love the fact that in New York City one can never ever tell by looking at an individual, what to expect. The party regular is a non-descript white guy, who is probably in his mid-twenties and approximately 5'10". He always comes to the parties in fairly conservative, possibly tailored attire of slacks and a buttoned down shirt. We all moved to encircle him as he began to break dance in full force. Laughing, my dance partner and I moved back to sit on the leather bench and enjoy the rest of the show, while the crowd hooted, howled and encouraged the regular to work it. The dancer took all of his spectators by surprise when he hopped up, did a complete and true B-boy flip that ended with the loud slam of his feet and him on his back. He popped back up; the crowd cheered and went nuts over the fact that he was able to pull that off in such a tiny space. As the dancer bopped around the lounge smacking the hands of encouragers, the rest of us raised brows, laughed and slapped fives over his incredible antics, as well.

*Click photo for its source.

Life, Love, Dancing...an excerpt of a new peice in progress

*Additonal excerpts to be posted each Tuesday (thanx for keeping me writing:-)...

I was the lone dancer on the tiny dance floor of the hotel's bar. I was enjoying the flirtatious interaction with the DJ: he behind his equipment, me dancing, our eyes flirting and laughing, as our bodies moved in similar patterns across the space. I have been coming here just about every week for the past two months to support my friends who are throwing these parties.

As I spun, I noticed him sitting on the far end of the long leather high backed bench to my left, closest to the bar. He was sitting alone with a drink in front of him, watching me. He had on cream colored sweat pants and a dark tee. I was feeling sexy in my cuffed, fitted jeans, baby tee with funky design and two inch high wedged heel sneakers. I turned back to the DJ and resumed our flirtatious play.

When I felt the need for a break I went to sit with my friends on the end of the leather bench closest to the DJ. It's a jazzy little lounge spot in the heart of New York's Theater District. There are high backed leather benches along three walls with low tables lined up in front of them and sleek, padded arm chairs in front of each table. You walk past a tiny bar as you enter the space and diagonally across from the bar there is a glass-enclosed smoker's room. The DJ is set up next to the glass enclosure.

My friends are both men who are cousins. I have known one of them for over a decade from back home in DC. He and I used to flirt with each other back then, but he's married now and we have drawn a truce. There continues to be an attraction, but we both respect the committed vows greatly. I met his cousin when my friend and I rediscovered each other two years ago here in The Big Apple. They have introduced me to all of their industry friends and I have been having a great time partying with them, being pampered and treated royally without the pressures of dating any of them. I love partying with male friends. I am protected without competing for the attentions of prospective suitors.

The DJ started another song that got a few of the new comers to the party onto the dance floor and it was one of my favorites, too! I joined the other three females on the dance floor. I noticed him in the smoker's room. Was he watching me or was I imagining things? There were several of us on the dance floor, but I felt his eyes on me, despite the shadowy darkness of the lounge.

*Click on image of this High Heeled sneaker for its source.

Soul Mates

I didn't really want to blog about this, but after "pestering" several friends via email they suggested I blog to open up the dialogue. I just want to know your thoughts on Soul Mates (I already know some of you don't believe in the concept). One friend likened them to Kindred Spirits, which can come and go through out your life. Personally, I think the term Mate means connected and attached for the remainder of one's life from the time you meet and "click". I also believe that Soul Mates are connected by God as "assigned" help-mates.

There is a film entitled Soul Mate that focuses on the Single, Black Christian Woman and how the male to female ratio dilemma affects us and our ability to be Soul Mated.

Please watch the trailer before you comment. I tried unsuccessfully to embed the trailer, which means unfortunately, you have to take an extra step.

The Soul Mate Trailer

For anyone in the NYC area - spread the word:
The Singles' Ministry at Abyssinian Baptist Church will be screening the film Soul Mate on this coming Weds., March 14th at 7pm. There will be 2 follow-up discussion sessions on Wed., March 21st & 28th.

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