Long ago, when I had a friend, she and I went to the Temple Bar to see Quinto Sol. They are this great live band that plays in the LA area a lot and their shows are always fun. We were dancing and having a good time. Suddenly, next to me appears this beautiful long haired, dark skinned, young man. It was obvious he had indigenous roots and the way he was dancing I thought it was going to rain in the club.
So here I am, in my mind, getting ethereal about this dude. I watched him dance and I thought about how he was possibly channeling ancestors as dance is really the only way, in my opinion, one can lose himself in the moment (besides sex). I couldn't take my eyes off of him and he caught me watching him a few times. All he did was smile at me. He was perfection in movement.
Suddenly, this drunk ass white girl backs her ass into his crotch and starts grinding. The guy was so distracted that the perfection in his movement turned into an awkward mass coming to an abrupt halt. Like a gazelle running across a plain and then suddenly getting stuck in the mud or a graceful long-winged bird getting shot down while in mid flight or like having someone open the door on you while you were having sex...awkward right? You should have seen the look on the dude's face. He didn't know what hit him and he didn't know what to do. He looked at me like I was supposed to swoop in and rescue him.
Well needless to say, "Dances with Hoes" quickly figured out what he was supposed to do and reciprocated the grind. No longer was he that eagle soaring towards the sun. He became just another native, distracted by the white (wo)man and allowed her to take away his identity. I was reliving history and now understand how our land was stolen from us. Beware of the poon.
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