Cute Boys, Ice Cream and Salsa

I need to write about the things that have happened to me the last few days, but it’s a daunting task. And I’m lazy.

But I’ll start on Friday, since it was one of the best days since I’ve been here.

I went to the clinic because the school was closed and stopped by the farmer’s market on the way. I love the farmer’s market; the stalls of flowers are my favorite, and just walking around and seeing all the people and trying free fruit samples make me happy.

Once I got to the clinic, I did some small jobs for Phyllis as I listened to country music on the radio (something I don’t really get to do in the apartment).

After Ruth got there we talked and I read some curriculum and ate lunch with the guys in downstairs. I then walked Ruth to Starbucks, where she had a date to have coffee with our favorite program guy who left last week, but he never showed up, so we made our way to the farmer’s market, since she had never been to one.

As we walked down the street looking at all the different fruits, vegetables, etc., a guy stopped us and asked if we had a few minutes. Ruth was closest to him, so she said yes, which made me VERY happy, because he happened to be incredibly attractive, and not attractive in that “I’m too pretty for you” kind of way, but attractive in an approachable way, which is better by far. And he was tall and had nice teeth. (Remember, the only guys around my age who I have met happen to be off limits to me, so this is really the first time in a while that I have been “allowed” to consider someone attractive. Big deal.)

He explained briefly that he was working for an environmental cause, trying to get cruise ships to stop dumping their waste in the ocean and wanted to sign us up for a mailing list or something, at which point Ruth stopped him and explained that we have no money because we’re volunteers.

He was impressed. “You guys came all the way from Australia to be volunteers?” he asked.

Ruth nodded, but I had to admit that I actually happen to be from Texas.

We probably talked to him for twenty minutes or so, during which he got more and more attractive, until we started talking about the election and he mentioned that he was so sad Kerry lost that he smoked the entire next day.

Crap. Not so attractive anymore.

But we told him all about our work with feet, and he seemed pretty interested, so we invited him to come and try it with us sometime. He said he would, but I’m not going to hold my breath.

After we walked away Ruth said, “I think he fancied you.”

I don’t think he did–he talked to her just as much as he did to me, but it’s a nice thought, anyway.

We went back to the clinic and I spent some more time talking, reading curriculum and fighting with the copy machine, and then we let ourselves off early.

I accompanied Ruth to Chinatown, where we bought her a phone card, and we happened to run into one of our clinic regulars, who was drunk, as usual.

When we asked him where the friends who usually accompany him happened to be, he said, “Well, I haven’t seen them because I just got back from. . .”

[Insert 30-second pause here.]

Ruth filled the pause with “Jail?” I love Ruth.

At which point he made a face and began to yell at a guy who happened to be passing by, “Help, help! I’m being harassed by two beautiful women!”

The passerby then looked at us and our friend and said, “Lucky you, man. Good for you.”

We laughed and talked to him for a few more minutes, until he started to get incoherent, and then Ruth suggested we get some ice cream at Rite Aid (one scoop for $1, two for $1.50).

“Just what I need,” I said, “since I’m gaining weight and I’m poor. . .let’s go!”

So we made our way to Rite-Aid and chatted with the ice cream lady, who only charged us $1 for TWO scoops of ice cream, which was great. I then made Ruth wander around the store with me and look at Christmas decorations, which I loved.

After we finished our snacks, I caught the bus home with Meredith, one of my team members. Nothing much happened for the rest of the night, until Kristi and I decided to go hear some salsa music at a cafe. . .at which point things got much more interesting.

We dressed up a little, but I didn’t have any real salsa clothes, so my outfit consisted of a sweater and jeans. I did, however, fix my hair and wear some real makeup for the first time in about a six weeks or so. I have some pictures.

We caught the bus in the dark, which was an experience in itself, and ended up at the cafe which was a nice little place–tablecloths and everything.

As we came in the door, an older guy looked at me and said, “Hey! I’ve never seen you here before! What’s your name?”

I told him, but Kristi kept quiet, at which he said, “What’s your friend’s name?”

I told him that, too, and then we got seated, which made me happy.

The live music happened to be pretty close to the bar, and we got seated right next to the incredibly small dance floor, so we had a really good view of the dancing, which was great.

It took everyone a few songs (and probably a few beers) before they headed out to the dance floor, but I had a great time watching and trying to learn by sight.

Right after the music started, a group of three guys sat at a table on the other side of the dance floor, and they took some interest in us (or so Kristi says). I didn’t notice them checking us out, which was weird, since I usually have pretty good radar. Anyway, these guys were probably mid-thirties and all had long, dark hair, and one of them had a button-down shirt with a bright picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe printed on it. I honestly don’t know how to give you an accurate picture of them; maybe you just had to be there.

So after the first few songs, two of these guys got up and asked us to dance. (Kristi got the one with the cool Virgin shirt, just FYI.) We told them we didn’t know how, but they said they’d teach us and that it was easy.

We probably looked like the white girls we are, but the dance was fun (and long!) and we had a good time.

They returned us to our seats, and then the guy who had originally asked me to dance–I think his name was Ernesto–asked Kristi to dance next. Much to my chagrin, I never got to dance with Virgin-of-Guadalupe-Shirt-Guy.

I did, however, get to watch Kristi dance, which was really cute.

After the band went off the stage, the music continued over the loud speaker, and Ernesto came up and asked me to dance again. On our way out to the floor he saw some members of the band and greeted them in Spanish and then introduced me.

We danced again, and he taught me some more steps; I was having a great time until I could hear his buddies talking to him in Spanish. Luckily, they had no idea that I could understand them, but I heard them yell, “Turn her around, turn her around,” at which point he did, so that my very flat butt (which I have recently learned I like to shake a lot) was pretty close to their table.

After the dance, I told Kristi about what had happened and suggested we pay and get out of there. As we paid, though, my friend Ernesto came up and asked me to dance one more time. I saw no harm in it, so I agreed. This was the meringue.

To keep a long story short, Ernesto got a little fresh (I’ll give you the demonstration if you want), and Noel is still appalled that I continued to dance with him. It wasn’t that bad.

But anyway, after the song was over, we headed out of there pretty quickly just to wait for the bus in a dark and shady part of town. As we walked down the street I said, “I miss our guys!”

So now Kristi and I have effectively recruited two guys from different teams to take salsa lessons with us, and we’re excited because we know they won’t try to feel us up.

Okay, this is really long and I haven’t even gotten to Saturday yet (it included the second domestic disturbance that at least one of our team members has witnessed, just to keep a long story short). So I think I’ll save it for another time.