Salsa Anyone?

You've been there. Yeah, I'm talking to you! You know, a nice after work event, with all or most of your favorite buddies, while you're enjoying your first of "2 for 1" drinks special. You take that first sip of your favorite drink, or henney (my favorite), while you simultaneously move your feet to everything they play. House? "Check!" Hip-Hop? "No Problem". Reggae and/or Reggeaton? "My hips don't lie, piece of cake"! Merengue? "Man! Spin me faster, I'm on a roll". Bachata? "Hey DJ keep playing that song, I'm killing the dance floor".

Your grooving and moving, getting freaky on the dance floor, and sweating to the oldies (ok, that was a bit lame, but you get the point). And suddenly, something really strange occurs, something horrifying. You feel an uncomfortable mist fill the room like that deep muggy fog, found in the woods scene of your favorite Friday the 13th movie. You begin to hear a familiar voice, followed by a familiar sound from afar. You don't know where it's coming from, and you can't understand why this is happening, but you can hear it. You begin to hear the distinct sound of the "clave" pa-pa, pa-pa-pa, pa-pa, pa-pa-pa. The tune starts to ring in your ears and you begin to look for ways of escape. The DJ skillfully begins to raise the volume to single out the song thats playing. A song from El Gran Combo (the great combo), titled El Negro Bembon (The black guy w/ big lips), and in an instant, as if someone released a potent flatulent rectal gas (a fart), all hell breaks lose and 95% of the folks that were getting jiggy with it (i know lame) clear the dance floor. The walls of the club become a refuge for the innocent bystanders who are looking for shelter. What just happened you may ask? What could have caused this mayhem?
The DJ decided to play SALSA! Yup! SALSA! SALSA! SALSA! and SALSA!

I don't know what it is, but I've witnessed this (and so have you) time and time again. People are terrified of dancing this style of music. Now is it me, or everywhere I go it seems that only an eighth of the folks stay on the dance floor. Something just comes over folks when this intimidating form of dance expression known as SALSA, is heard over the speaker systems. There's just something about completing a dance w/ coordination and style that drives people NUTS! And as the floor is deserted, they (the intimated) come up with excuses of having to go smoke, or take a piss, or check their make-up, or take a piss and check their make up or smoke, take a piss and check their make-up. But you will NEVER, or very rarely hear a group say...."Hey, it's SALSA, OMG please, please, please, let's go dance! OMG! "This is like my favorite song for like forever and ever!" "Chicas (girls) pleeease let's go Daaaaaance!" That will never, ever happen! Well, Unless you're at an afro-Cuban/puerto rican convention, them folks don't play. But do you know why it won't happen? Ever? Cause there's always one or two people in every given group, that will never dare to mess with it...they just wont. They'll pierce their nipples, tongues and toes...YES! Tattoo their eyelids, sharpen their teeth with chisels (thanks Zak), and even suspend themselves from their skin, for pleasure. But they will never, ever, ever, ever...mess with the creature of "dance-floor-destruction" known as SALSA. Is it all the spotlights?

The funny thing is that, although most of the party people in the house would be scared shit less of stepping on the dance floor with, OMG all those SPOTLIGHTS! You'll notice that there are a few that have some freaking courage. You see them, trying to pull a quick one-two step in a dark corner...BY THEMSELVES! Or you'll catch the classic and always occurring scene of those two BFF's, performing the same freaking "wrong" steps they practiced in their rooms the day before (i love seeing them). But the one that takes the cake, and I love this one, is that occasionally unique, special and drunk ass couple, that just had a little too much to drink, and really believe they know what they're doing. They just don't give a shit about anything or anyone. They come to drink and dance all night! They'll stay on the dance floor for 18 consecutive hours, regardless of what plays, who stays, who goes, who comes and YUP! They'll even dance SALSA! You stare at them and laugh cause their happy feet are doing something that looks like a mixture between merengue and house w/ a little bit of hip-hop/bachata. Yeah! They're dancing merenhouhihoachata. But at least they have the testicular fortitude to be out there and give a try.

Now of course, you have the selected few (myself included hehe, Exhibit A to the left..don't hate. Yup, that's me and my homegirl Giz.) that know a little something-something about this dance. But i'm not gonna try and play myself and act like i'm a pro. I'm not like some of those other couples that take advantage of the deserted dance floor. You've seen them. You actually become one of their fans. They always show up and their outfits are even coordinated and shit. And they look so serious, never making eye contact with all the jaw dropped spectators. And please don't tell me they don't take classes together. Pleeeeease! Just save it. You've seen them! I know you have. They spin each other 3,793 times in the same spot, and twist themselves in and out of pretzel formations without breaking a sweat or their bones. Almost having sex with their cloths on while they complete all their moves. I know you hate them... I hate them to. You know their showing off right? You know they are! Just look at them, as they glide across the dance floor as if they were wearing ice skates and competing for the mother-freaking Olympic gold medal. But what is it that separates them from the other 95% who abandoned ship? They have guts and they practice!

So... To all you none SALSA dancers who never, ever care to give it a try. Do yourself a favor, take some time out for yourself, even Google it if you have to, and take some Got Damn Salsa lessons! Don't get caught abandoning ship anymore, or I'll hook you up with that guy that dances by himself in the dark corner. he he.

BE THE MAN! Live, Love and Dance SALSA!