Back on a Hoe Stroll


Well, not quite but something like that.

But the point is, I'm trying distract myself--"redirect" if you will. Acknowledging the obsessive tendencies by trying to give them something else to focus on. Can't say it worked, but it was fun.

Did the usual Saturday run-around, sans Karate (the Sun was just worn out and begged not to go; plus his teammates were all going away so he'd have no one to spar with, he said). Although I did a lot of sitting around too, and my place is just a wreck today because of it. In the evening, the Professor and I did a Tar-jay run and then hit the town. Shoefly very generously offered to have The Sun stay over with the Moon. The old Bear Maiden got sort of done up... I even carried a purse (!) rather than my usual backpack/messenger bag and I kept meaning to take a picture for proof but I never got around to it.

We first went to Mi Gente Cafe in Castle Hill, and we didn't know it till we got there but ladies got in free, 2 for 1 drinks and free barbecue was the special of the day. Hey, not bad. We sat on the back patio and watched Tiny grill up some dogs and a slab of ribs. Tiny was um, rather large with a not-from-Castle Hill accent, which he later revealed via an overheard cellphone conversation was a product of his growing up in Florida.

So I had a hotdog, (which I later realized was about the only thing I ate all day other than my usual double-cup of Bustelo with half and half and raw sugar, some dark-chocolate raisinettes and some nut mix... I must be more depressed than I think since that's the only time I don't eat) which helped to absorb the shot and a half of Corazon Anejo I had before I left, and the 2-for-1 Margarita I had there.

The Professor kept saying it was pretty dead compared to other times she's been there with her cohorts, but it did sort of pick up around 1A, though by then we were leaving. The crowd anyhow was mainly young and mostly chicks who seemed mostly gay, and a few guys. Mainly one old dude who was seriously trying to get a rap with a pair of boobs. Music was good; they played a good reggae segment (which is really the only stuff I can dance to with ease), and a salsa segment (I really wish I could learn how to dance Salsa... it's just awesome to watch) and then they broke into the Dominican "brinka-dinka-dink-dink-ka dink-ka, brinka-dinka-dink-dink-ka dink-ka" music which is a weird 4-count slide step music that I definitely can't catch. The Professor found out via text messaging that her former classmate-co-worker and her boyfriend were headed down to the Voodoo Lounge in the City, and she asked if I was up for going. Yeah, why not. The Sun is safe and I'm "euphoric" by now thanks to the $3 Apple Martini special, and I'm out already so what the hell.

The club was *packed*. Mostly Black and Hispanic, seemingly mostly couples but more free guys than girls. The Professor's friend bought me another Margarita. Some tall, bald college kid-trying-to-be-a-model came and talked to me for a second, but he was just a little too young (not that I have a problem with the young boys) and too goofy to tolerate for long. By then I *really* needed to dance. Or I wouldn't have been able to do much of nothin' else, so the Professor and I danced for a minute, and then I dragged the friend's boyfriend out on the floor where luckily enough, the DJ played some *real* "Old School" shit.

It was so hot in there--"pizza-oven" hot. Somehow the dance partners changed and I ended up dancing with this guy who thought it was sexy to say all the rap lyrics in my ear. Luckily it was hot and packed and loud as hell so it was quite OK to laugh my ass off while we danced. Then they broke into some more salsa, which my partner couldn't dance to, so we sat it out and watched the Professor dance with his 23 year old Latin friend.

"Jamel" ended up being a beat-down looking 30, and when I told him how old I was (to make him feel better since he was feeling old, apparently) he looked at me with eyes wide.

"Yo, Ma, you look good!" Why thank you.
"Yo, Ma, your eyes are crazy sexy, yo."
Why thank you again, you make me feel good.
"You going to call me, right Ma?" he asked, as I took his number.

Nah, sorry Jamel. But I appreciate the flattery. It does an old body good.

The Professor pawned me off on her friend for my ride back to The Rock (friend lives closer to me than Professor does, to be fair) but we first had to pick up friend's daughter. The little girl was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 4AM, which made me laugh cuz she's one of those that MUST wait up for Mama.

I slept for a few hours but woke up before the hangover set in (old drinking tip I've learned), ate some high-fat yogurt, 2 Exedrin and my Bustelo, so I'm feeling a little tired but none the worse for wear.

Still obsessed, though. *sigh*.

And now, I REALLY must clean my apartment.... oh but the phone just rang. Yay! More procrastination!

Comments

Nina said…
Hey, I'm glad you had a care-free evening "on the town". Sounds like it was a little fun. :)

Don't you wish, sometimes, the obsession was with housecleaning, etc.? You sound like me when it comes to that. Here's to minimal procrastination! :P
The Bear Maiden said…
Hi, friend. Yes, I SO WISH the obsession was housecleaning... it would make my house so much cleaner!

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