One of the single most confusing phenomenon is when you vibe with someone on so many different levels for the first time, but they make no attempt to keep the vibe going.
Shorty swing my way is one of my favorite songs. Here we have a girl who went out to a club on a friday night, looking for a man that would do her right. I wasn't necessarily looking for a man to "do it" with, but I just wanted to have some good ol' fashioned clean ghettorific fun. My girlfriend and I got all dolled up and went downtown for a few drinks and some kickbacks. Upon arrival, I spotted this I'm-bald-on-purpose dude that was pretty attractive. He wasn't really my type (i like em' dark like a kitchen stove and skinny like kermit the frog). He was beige with facial hair and a little stocky. We made an immediate connection by making fun of the loony bin that was trying to talk to my girlfriend. He was even further impressed by my knowledge of football and how I called the penalty before the referee confirmed my accuracy. I made him laugh a lot. Having a guy laugh at my jokes is a major turn on for me because that means he gets me, and it also means that he's got a killer sense of humor.
Finally after a few rounds of girlie drinks, we advanced downstairs to the dance floor. I danced with dude for a straight hour. Song after song after song. Genre after genre. I went from dropping it like it was mothafuggin hot, to gyrating on some reggaeton tip, to willie bouncing on his deeyock. To me, dancing with someone for a long period of time means a connection is made. Last time i danced with someone for more than 45 minutes, i ended up topless on their washing machine. So with that anecdote in mind, I prepared myself for at least a number exchange when the bartender did her last call.
As the lights gradually interrupted the intamacy of the club, I looked around for my dancing boo who had slipped away to use the restroom. I spotted my friend--pleasantly drunk--dancing with a guy from her church. Finally my boo comes back. He sashays over to me in his dark denim jeans, and he leans into me. I can feel his five o clock shadow gently exfoliate my neck as he kisses my cheek. He takes his big strong hands and wraps them around my thighs. Here it comes I say to myself. He's going to invite me back to his place. He leans in further and whispers in my ear....
"You're mad cool. I'll see you around."
You mothafluckin BITCH!
I stood there in awe. Uhm wtf just REALLY happened? How you hit it off with someone like that and they just tell you YOU'RE AWESOME DUDE and just walk the eff out of the club like ya'll wasn't gonna tell ya'll grandkids how gram and gramps met each other by dry humping to Usher's Trading Places. I stood there, like a lady should, and waved goodbye to him as he walked off. What could I say? "Hey there wait a minute. Here's my number you whack ass game-less loser?" no i could not do that. All I could do was stand there and watch my girlfriend collect a phone number from her church homeboy.
So I guess the moral of the story is--don't expect a man to acquire your contact information even though you're great. Men are about the destination and women are about the journey. If they can't figure you out in 5 minutes, they damn sure ain't gonna take 5 days or 5 weeks.
Next dude I dance with, better be wearing a Rosary.
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