Dancing to her Tune

I’m pretty chill; smooth with the ladies, if you know what I mean. That is why they are so surprised when I make my move, slide in close, and just as things are looking good my body starts with the uncontrollable shake-shake-shakes! Then my right legs spins three times at an impossibly horrible angle. I bend at the waist until my chin slaps my knees, and when I straighten up the inertia of it takes me high, high in the air until I land and say to them, “Yo, it’s cool. Wanna grab some ice cream and amaretto? My treat.” You have to treat a lot when you do shit like that, if you wanna have lady friends, that is. Look, I get it.

Just the other night I ambled up next to this barroom beauty and was feeding her the business when I floated 3 feet up in the air, hovering there in front of her while my lower half spun round and round in complete circles, tightening my waist ever tighter and thinner like I was some kind of rubber band man. It was a tad embarrassing, but I thought I played it off well. ”What?“ I asked her. “You never had a guy get all twisted up over you?” I was still up there spinning at the waist when my left arm popped off and thudded to the floor. “Say, you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand with that, would you Babe?”

So when she jetted I made my way to the DJ booth where two hotties were throwin’ down on the dance floor. Two women dancing together never fails to get me up, so in I jumped.

I was really getting my groove on when my freaky showed up. It was full throttle this time. It was the shaky-shaking, the waist spinning, the legs whirling, the snap and jump… hey, I wish I knew what was coming next, but who really cares so long as it looks good on the dance floor? I was shaking the proverbial leg, and these chicks were digging it!

They took me home, where the action didn’t stop. They’d never seen moves like mine, and wanted to know what other moves I had hidden away. I told them I was as excited to find out as they were! They squealed as my head spun circles. One propped her fanny under my flailing hands, screaming with delight as they slapped away, while the other pulled my spinning head into her bosom, holding it up close as it whirled away.

But it was no use. A man cannot perform for any number of beautiful women when another has a hold of his heart, controlling his every move. And so it was with my lovely little Marie.

“Yes,” Marie had said to me earlier in the evening, she being way to smart to argue with a player like myself. “You can go out on the town. Have all the fun you want! What the hell? You are not tied to me. I will sit here and wait for you like a good girl. Sit, and wait, and play with my little friend.” As she stroked the doll’s hair I had purred like her kitten out into the Crescent City night. Hey, a man’s gotta be a man, and do man things.

But the game was up, the moon waxing low, so I made my way home, kick-skip, crack-a-whipping my way through the N’awlin’s night, heading home where I belonged, tucked in tight with my little hoodoo-voodoo queen.

”You’re home early.” She cooed as I slid into bed beside her, spooning up close.

“I’m just not my own man when you’re not around.”

”Yes,” she said. “I know.” And off to dream she drifted.