Sweat

Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Current mood: aggravated
I went out Saturday night to celebrate a childhood friend's 33rd b-day. I was at this club in Long Beach that was so crowded, seriously the fire marshall should have been called. If you were just standing around you were sweating, that's how hot this place was. I really wanted to get my groove on but didn't want to catch the vapors so I decided that the happy medium was to be near the dance floor, not on it. So, as soon as some wack ass T-Pain song came on, a few girls in too-tight jeans jumped up a' la "that's my jaaaaam!" So, I swooped in like a seagull and managed to secure a now vacant seat. I situated myself on one of the bar stools near the dance floor and placed my hands on my thighs, palms down (I'm trying not to cross my arms as much; it's supposed to send a message that you're standoffish, unapproachable, blah blah blah...) In my peripheral, I see this sweaty little dark figure in a Bill Cosby sweater wiping his face with his hands and walking away from the dance floor. I start watching the T-Pain girls (**how do they know this song? I've never heard it in my entire life…look at them! Oh, this is a hot mess. Why does T-Pain use that damn voice thing on every song?!**) I was so focused on the ghetto girls & the ghetto Roger, that I did not realize that the dark figure was entering my personal space. I turned...just as he grabs my hands! And his hands were SOAKING wet with warm sweat! I grimaced, shrieked, snatched my hands back, and immediately wiped them off!!!

Dark Figure: Hey baby, you wanna dance?
Me: GROSS!!!! You just put your sweaty hands on me!
Dark Figure: Aw baby, ain't nothing wrong with a little sweat! You sittin' there lookin' all fine & stuff, you need to sweat too.
Me: Yes there is something wrong with sweat!
Dark Figure: Naw, ain't nothing wrong with sweat.
Me: Yes there is, there's something wrong with YOUR sweat! On ME!

He kept mumbling, but my ADD kicked in, so I tuned his frequency out. GROSS! Sweat = toxins leaving your body. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a germaphobe. I avoid shaking hands at all costs and if I touch a door knob, my mind won't rest until I get to some soap & water. Maybe I should have peed on him and said "hey baby, ain't nothing wrong with a little golden shower!"