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The usual weekend report...
Sep. 7th, 2003 11:36 pmFriday night was spent with my co-worker Carrie. She and her friends are a bunch of loons with a few drinks in them. We were in a country bar, and it was packed. The band was playing crap from the 60's and 70's, but everyone was dancing, me included.
Saturday afternoon, my brother Dave and I drove a few miles out of town to meet up with some folks from Mom's side of the family for a pig roast. My parents are out of town this week, and my other brother Steve had to work, so it was just Dave and I. We hadn't seen anyone on this side of the family since a funeral two years ago. Everyone's kids are growing up so fast! We had a really nice time.
We got back about 9:00, and I immediately went home to change clothes and meet another set of co-workers at a bar. The son of one of the gals was in the band. I could only stay a short while, as I was set to pick up Bonnie at 11:00 for another round of dancing. Turns out I didn't get to see Barb's son play, they were last on the bill, and wouldn't play till much later. I suffered through some guys playing awful Zepplin covers, then I was on my way.
Bonnie and I are becoming regulars at these PanAfrica dances. The guy who danced with me last week showed up, and he wouldn't leave me alone. On the one hand it was kind of fun, because guys rarely ask us to dance, and I believe people are starting to think that since Bonnie and I dance together, then we must be a couple! This guy, he said his name was Mustafa. He was an OK dancer, a little taller than me, very, very, skinny, with long dreadlocks and the blackest skin of any black man I've ever met. He took my hand to pull me to the dance floor, and I marveled at the contrast with my own, pale white skin. We were probably rather striking to see together. I thought he was probably grad student age, but he said he was two years younger than me. The light wasn't good, I couldn't tell, he might have been lying. As we were bumping and grinding on the dance floor, he kept telling me "I want to go home with you tonight" "I'll make you feel like a virgin." I found this highly amusing! I just want to dance with this guy, have a good time and go home. I wasn't attracted to him, and I didn't feel I was leading him on at all. I tried to make this clear, but at the end of the evening, I practically had to peel him off of me to get to the car! He was insulted that I wouldn't go home with him. It's an odd feeling, I've been craving a man's attentions for so long, especially a man who can dance, but when the wrong guy comes on too strong, it's hard to know how to handle it.
Sunday was my usual routine, sleep till 1:00 in the afternoon, lounge about in front of the TV, and do nothing even remotely productive all day. I've got it down to a science...
Next Tuesday, my favorite local band, the German Art Students, are playing at Luther's. I plan on going by myself, I managed to miss their last few shows. Support your local artists, I always say.
-Julie
Saturday afternoon, my brother Dave and I drove a few miles out of town to meet up with some folks from Mom's side of the family for a pig roast. My parents are out of town this week, and my other brother Steve had to work, so it was just Dave and I. We hadn't seen anyone on this side of the family since a funeral two years ago. Everyone's kids are growing up so fast! We had a really nice time.
We got back about 9:00, and I immediately went home to change clothes and meet another set of co-workers at a bar. The son of one of the gals was in the band. I could only stay a short while, as I was set to pick up Bonnie at 11:00 for another round of dancing. Turns out I didn't get to see Barb's son play, they were last on the bill, and wouldn't play till much later. I suffered through some guys playing awful Zepplin covers, then I was on my way.
Bonnie and I are becoming regulars at these PanAfrica dances. The guy who danced with me last week showed up, and he wouldn't leave me alone. On the one hand it was kind of fun, because guys rarely ask us to dance, and I believe people are starting to think that since Bonnie and I dance together, then we must be a couple! This guy, he said his name was Mustafa. He was an OK dancer, a little taller than me, very, very, skinny, with long dreadlocks and the blackest skin of any black man I've ever met. He took my hand to pull me to the dance floor, and I marveled at the contrast with my own, pale white skin. We were probably rather striking to see together. I thought he was probably grad student age, but he said he was two years younger than me. The light wasn't good, I couldn't tell, he might have been lying. As we were bumping and grinding on the dance floor, he kept telling me "I want to go home with you tonight" "I'll make you feel like a virgin." I found this highly amusing! I just want to dance with this guy, have a good time and go home. I wasn't attracted to him, and I didn't feel I was leading him on at all. I tried to make this clear, but at the end of the evening, I practically had to peel him off of me to get to the car! He was insulted that I wouldn't go home with him. It's an odd feeling, I've been craving a man's attentions for so long, especially a man who can dance, but when the wrong guy comes on too strong, it's hard to know how to handle it.
Sunday was my usual routine, sleep till 1:00 in the afternoon, lounge about in front of the TV, and do nothing even remotely productive all day. I've got it down to a science...
Next Tuesday, my favorite local band, the German Art Students, are playing at Luther's. I plan on going by myself, I managed to miss their last few shows. Support your local artists, I always say.
-Julie
