The dance floor Mecca spreads it’s wings and welcomes me back into it’s loving embrace. Bathed in waves of sound – drum and bass, melodic vocal trance, house, psychedelic trance – I love it all as I love old friends or better yet, old flames. There was a time I lived for this and this alone. The high, the camaraderie, the love, the roll.
Although it was not easy getting here. It was not easy finding my way back.
God it’s so familiar and yet… at the same time… so wrong. I described this feeling to a friend of mine as “visiting my parent’s house.” What once was home is no longer mine. I am so different now. Finally clean and no going back to those dark days long left behind . Armed to the teeth with looks, renewed vigor, but more-so armed with experience… and this experience is what gives me a greater edge then I could have ever had when I was young.
I see beautiful faces, none of them familiar, dart in and out of the shadows and I greet each one with a smile and disingenuous dancing eyes. I tell them what they want to hear. The pretty ones I playfully tease, the average ones I build up with heartfelt compliments. And I walk away from each interaction being “the life of the party” and with a new number in my phone or sometimes, when I get lucky, a new companion to share my bed with.
I am a predator again but with teeth sharper then before, honed to a razor edge. And I hunt now for sport not for food.
“ Why do you hate women?” My cousin Angel sets the shot glass down and bites into the lime.
I raise an amused eyebrow, “ Hate? I love women. Everything about them. Every single fucking nuance.”
“ So why do you fuck with them the way you do?”
“ That’s a bullshit statement and you know it. I tell each and every woman I meet they are not my type and that I am incapable of love. It’s up to them whether they decide to throw me into the briar patch.”
He gives me a puzzled look. " Well either way cabron, it's good to have you back. We all missed you."
4 comments:
well, it IS great to have you back. i've missed your thoughts.
you've inspired me. i should write something.
um...nah
"We all missed you". Ditto for me, cabron.
yeah yeah me too lol
asshole.
oh no, oh well. dick?
no, you always were a big inspiration for me my friend.
i had a microcospic wait. microscopic, experience like that recently... going to a salsa club, the first time in two years. (the one time last year doesnt count exactly)... and it swept me back to gritty latino clubs in Switzerland and later Berlin... my crazy night escapades with my friend all alone in the long night (clubs go until 5 AM over there ) with fake ID's at age 15 ... the first cuban dick i sucked (it sucked) and nasty old men tricking me into thinking they could teach me salsa by rubbing up. the times of liberation when my colombian girlfriend explained me how to exactly deal with those assholes. berlin, berlin, long nights of swirling warm lights and bare feet and heels and sexy outfits and long hair and handsome men spinning me around...
in just one second it took me all the way back.
and i felt different tho, older, new perspectives, but it was so familiar and calling out to me, beckoning me to come back, to go back. to be homesick again
In another world, a long time ago, I'd tell every girl I met that I would most likely not call them for at least a few weeks, if at all, no matter what happened. I explained that it was just the way I was. Then I met my wife and I told her that I'd do whatever she wanted me to do; run, hide, or stay.
It's fun coming back to the Dive Bar. Like putting on someone else's skin for a while, or like lo-fi VR a-la Gibson or Strange Days.
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