Posts Tagged ‘dance’

Don’t Break My Friend

Wednesday, September 10th, 2008

Marga and I have some great times when we go out together. We went to hear a band play at a little hole in the wall bar one night where we happened to run into tons and tons of landscape architects. Yes. ‘Twas a convention full of em.

There was a group of 3 guys that were talking to Marga and I. A song that I liked came on. I don’t remember what song it was, but one of the guys asked me to dance with him. Dancing is one of my most favorite things to do. I dance in my home, in stores, in the middle of the street, in my underwear…i skip the pole though…

Anyways, we start dancing and for some god forsaken reason, he thinks he can just pick me up and spin/throw me whichever way he pleases.

But I’m fragile. At the time, I was a mere 100lb little blob of skin and bones. 

Helpless as i’m basically being thrown into the wind and carried away by the tunes coming from on stage, my body flailed about, my legs on the verge of knocking over chairs and my arms holding on for dear life. I somehow managed to scream “What the fuck are you doing?” 

And then my savior came. Marga. Please note, this is why we are bff. She grabs the guy’s arm. He stops spinning me about. And then she screams at him “Don’t break my friend!”

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Do You Wanna Pop?

Saturday, August 30th, 2008

In Chalmette, Louisiana, which is where I’m from, we have what’s known as the “chalmette pop”. The Chalmette pop is a dance that the lil hoochies do when marching in Mardi Gras parades. It goes a lil something like this: they’re marching, they’re marching, they’re marching…then all of a sudden…they stop, they drop it, and they start compulsively gyrating to the booty music blaring from their sound system.

I always, always talk about the Chalmette pop. I always, always attempt to do it…but I’m not quite as good as the lil hoochies we heart so much back at home during Mardi Gras season.

I had just gotten broken up with by a mediocre boy.

Christmas time was soon approaching and that meant parties. Being that I was dumb enough to get this fellow a job at the same company as I worked, I thought a new dress or outfit to wear to the company Xmas party would make me feel better. It was a tough break up, so we still planned on showing up together.

I went to the mall in search of the perfect holiday attire. I walked into the Limited (and this, readers, is why I never shop at stores like this…i much so more rely on vintage stores, and not your everyday run of the mill stores). I start looking around at outfits and dresses. A sales associate walks up to me and asks me if I need help. I was feeling (and probably looking) a little pathetic so I went against my gut instinct and said-yes, i could use some help.

She starts pulling these hideous dresses off the rack, throwing them at me so i can try them on. Of course none of them were my taste. So I figure I’ll just let her pick what she thinks is in season and then do my own thing when she goes away. Negative. 

She sees I’m obviously not a Holly Go-Happy. Takes the pile of clothes from me. Slams them on top of one of the displays. Turns to me, looks me dead in the eye and says “Do you wanna pop?”

I thought to myself…oh my god- did she just challenge me to a pop off in the middle of the Limited?!

So I say, “Did you just ask me if I wanted to pop?” and she replys “Yeah, ya know…like sparkle.”

She should thank her lucky stars that that’s what she meant because every Chalmette gurl loves to pop like there’s no tomorrow.

I ended up finally getting away from her and got this really pretty dress. Very classic, very sophisticated. Very me.

The fella and I, however, decided to go in ugly Christmas sweaters. That trip to the mall was all in vain. I sported my red leather pants, my sex kitten boots and an ugly sweater. And I looked damn fine.

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