Another entry in my “things that only happen to T” log…
Last night a few friends and I decided to get all gussied up and head out to the fancy-shmancy Drake Hotel for a night of hanging out and dancing. I ain’t gonna lie, I was looking and feeling cute in my newly purchased JLo dress which, not only was 25% off, but I was able to use my Kohl’s dollars for an additional $10 off. BAM!
On our way there, I recieved a text but forgot to open it. After about an hour, I remembered that I hadn’t read the text. I couldn’t get a signal in the area where we were so I stepped out of the room. As I walked out of the dance area, a tall, stocky man with an Eastern European accent asked if I’d like to dance. I told him I would when I got back. Two minutes later I returned and there he was waiting by the entry into the dance area. I smiled at him and he followed me as I walked over to my table, put my phone down and we sauntered over to the dance floor.
He couldn’t dance to save his life but I continued to do the side-to-side step hoping maybe he would catch on to that. He didn’t.
He asked me my name. He got it wrong. I didn’t care. I was too aggravated that a perfectly good salsa song was going to waste on someone who couldn’t dance. He told me he was a Romanian from Toledo but was in Chicago for two days. I smiled and continued to walk in place.
A minute later he mentioned, again, he’d be leaving in a couple of days. And then this convo happened…
him: you are here always?
me: no. this is the first time I’ve been here. it’s actually the first time they have this event here at this hotel.
me: yeah. this latin dance event. tonight is the first night this event is being hosted here.
him: oh. I see. will you be here tomorrow?
me: (thinking maybe something was getting lost in translation) um, no. this event is only tonight.
— right around this point he tried to turn himself and stepped on my foot.
him: (in a stern tone) oh you messed up a little. try to keep up. (wiping the faucet of sweat dripping from his forehead) so, yes, I will be here for two more days and then back to Toledo. you are one of the very beautiful and friendly women here in nice dress. will I see you here tomorrow in this hotel?
(insert sound-effect of 18-wheeler Mack truck hitting the brakes) I don’t know what was more offensive about that whole encounter… the fact that he thought I’m the one who was dancing off beat or the fact that he thought I was a hooker.
Damn that JLo dress.