Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Who’s House on Valentine’s Day?

With Valentine’s Day approaching, I wanted to share a story with you all about true love. I was blessed enough to have felt it for the first time recently and figured I would share the experience with you all...

Whenever my boys tell me about how "fly" somebody is, I’m a little reluctant to believe them...and rightfully so. I'm not one to believe the hype...especially off of hearsay. I often look for an amalgam of characteristics in a woman before deeming her “the truth,” a title reserved for only the best…the cream (of wheat) of the crop, if you will.

So when my homeboys told me about the love of my life back in ’02, I didn’t believe them at first. When she came up in conversations amongst the fellas, everybody would smile and nod their heads in approval. It's important to note here that it wasn't a lacivious grin, but more a revering one. At one such conversation, with two of these brothers who were two years my senior she became the topic of discussion. Because I was young back then, and a decent dancer, they figured I’d have a better chance with her than they might. And they were right. I could dance to the music she made and she was the beat to my step. She made my heart palpitate in ways only a young heart can bear.

We met on the dance floor. And I’m convinced that under the right circumstances this is the one place that one can truly experience love at first sight. I knew I loved her that day. Mouth agape I made my way towards her. I wanted to ask her for permission to dance but some women don’t respect that. So I walked up and just started dancing. Everyone turned to look at us, many wondering what exactly I was doing. I couldn’t keep my feet on beat so I tried a mixture of the Harlem Shake and the robot…not a good look, if I may say so myself. The DJ was a friend and could see I was struggling, so he mixed in some reggae. I guess she wasn’t having that bump and grind nonsense though and she faded away. Next thing I know, she’s by the DJ booth all up in his crates. And that’s when I knew my "friend" actually had ulterior motives when he cross faded to that Shabba Ranks joint.

So that was our first meeting. I made a fool of myself, but at least I made it abundantly clear that I was interested. I would later find out that she was major in the whole club/party scene. The majority of DJ’s knew about her and for a second I wondered whether I should even try to get at her. Love will make you do some crazy things, though. You’ll come up with all sorts of explanations for why things are as they are. In my case, it worked out for the best. It turned out that she was just well known in the dance scene. And for the record, I googled, wikipedia-ed, and you-tubed her. In retrospect, it was a little extreme. But then again, love is an extreme emotion that cannot be confined by the limits of our sense of the rational.

When I left upstate and came into the city, I didn’t think I would ever see her again. I found myself inebriated at a nightclub called Rock Candy, however, and next thing I know, I’m dancing with her. Everybody was watching me, but I didn’t care at this point. I was in my own world and we were grooving and moving in unison. I should have grabbed her math, but I didn’t. Besides, now I knew where I could find her. And from then on, every Saturday night I would pay an absurd cover simply to dance with her. I followed her to Cain, Marquee, Strata, and finally Shelter. She would spend the night at my apartment in Brooklyn and I would fall asleep to the sound of her voice. We became so close that in a matter of weeks she practically moved into my apartment.

The more I would go out, the better I could dance. And the best part is that she never got jealous. When the beat dropped, people would clear the middle of the dance floor and it would be just her and me. Women would cut in and if they could keep up, I’d dance with them. But the whole time she was on my mind and in my heart. And she knew that. They would seduce me with their eyes knowing I was taken. I couldn’t see them though, because she and I had something special.

I get at her when I need to make things happen. She’s the soundtrack to the path of my success. She’s another reason to believe that there must be a God. And she’s spending the night with yours truly on Valentine’s Day.

So who’s house on Valentine’s Day? House is that woman who I’ll be falling asleep to. House is the lady who I’ll be dancing with before I go to bed. House may not tell me she loves me, but I sure as hell love her.

2 comments:

Brother Spotless said...

"I couldn’t keep my feet on beat so I tried a mixture of the Harlem Shake and the robot…not a good look, if I may say so myself."


Hilarious...

Brother Lightness said...

I concur.