Just my luck!

Rain was hanging in the grey clouds and I was fearing it would fall out of the sky and get me soaking wet. The air was warm and humid. Sweat was running through my hair, down my neck and my back and I swear that it felt as if my face was melting.
I was wearing one of my most colorful dresses, tight on the top, wide on the bottom, perfect for dancing because it would twirl as I did. I had not given biking on a dress like this enough thought. The wind occasionally made my dress fly up so high that everyone got to admire my butt and other private parts.Just my luck!  
I was blinking non-stop because bugs would fly right into my eyes. They tend to love to do that even though I don't understand because it's not as if they don't have enough space to transport their selves from one place to another. 


I had asked several people if I could borrow their bike but at the end I had no choice but to get on the bike with the most uncomfortable saddle. Au!
I usually try to stay positive but my incapacity to deal with the discomfort probably had something to do with the hormones raging through my body, since my body always has this perfect timing.  Just my luck!

I reached the scene of the party as the very first guest. The moment I got off the uncomfortable bike and walked into the building the rain, as if a switch was turned, started pouring down. I could not get further than the entrance but at least I got there dry. I felt lucky!
I did to have wait for another half an hour before other guests started arriving. The party happened to be organised by people from the Caribbean and most guests were from the Caribbean and who, especially from this part of the world, arrives at a party on time or early anyway? Well, I do. Just my luck!

People started dripping in and the party got going. My legs were hurting but I was planning on dancing like they didn't. I would meet up a friend of mine there, so I did. Turned out that she invited this guy she likes and was just getting to know. I decided to stay in the background not to interrupt the spark that was possibly flying over.

Soon enough I made a friend, well not really a friend but he obviously thought we were or wanted to become more than that ( not even in his wildest dreams). He was somewhere in his thirties, I'm guessing and obviously a little bit lonely. The first 15 minutes I was talking to him were nice. It was a friendly guy but soon he started clinging on me. It seemed as if he took a hold and did not want to let go. Just my luck!
I found it really difficult to shake him off in a friendly way, but I eventually did. Well he eventually got the hint that I wasn't really there for his entertainment. I said I was going to the bathroom and never returned.



The average age of the men I danced with was well..above thirty. My best friend who's 24, if I'm not mistaken, was an outlier, like the green one in the figure on the left, and the only man beneath 30 that I danced with, a few times, during the whole night.

I asked a friend of mine once why men my age don't really ask me to dance often and she replied that I look intimidating. Intimidating, me?
The men who do dance with me, do ask me to dance with them again, but they are usually above 30 and most of them have this  belly and remind me of my dad. 
They are usually really nice men, who wouldn't hurt a fly, except when they start to flirt with me. Then I just start wishing they could bug off.
To all other men I would like to say: ' I'm not stuck up,  I'm not really interested in you, not in that way, and no, you can not take me home with you tonight, but I would like to dance. I promise I won't bite.'

I used to ask guys to dance because they would not walk up to me, so I would walk up to them because I do want to dance. My best friend told me not to do that and let's  be honest, walking up to strange men is a bit scary. He told me I should let them come to me. 
Well I tried that several times, and yesterday. They don't really seemed to approach me like bees on honey, maybe it was because I wasn't wearing a really tight short dress? Or maybe because I don't dance nasty?




By the way, some girls really take 'dance like no one is watching' too seriously. Some of them really looked a bit pathetic yesterday, one of them was rubbing off on one of the performer's leg. I, along with some other girls, looked away in disgust.




So I danced with old men, they were friendly, because I wanted to dance. Just my luck! One of them started a conversation with me. He wasn't rubbing up on me. He kept a very appropriate distance while dancing and I was happy he did. Sometimes when you dance with a man, as a woman, it feels like you're constantly in a kind of fight where he tries to pull you really close and you try to keep your distance by pushing him away. Luckily it wasn't the case this time.

'Are you here with your husband or are you here with your boyfriend, he asked in Papiamentu. 'Neither', I replied 'My boyfriend is on vacation. ' He reacted a bit surprised and said: 'Your boyfriend is a lucky man.' 
Is he? I thanked him for the wonderful compliment, but hearing those words I instantly felt tears welling up behind my eyes. All my emotions I had kept in that night suddenly took control of me. My next dance partner, 40 or something, didn't really get to look at my face, because I hid it against his shoulder so he would not notice I was crying. Pity was the last thing I needed.

The songs were all about love and I enjoyed it but at the same time I couldn't stand it and I smiled but my heart felt heavy and I started wondering why I even there. I did enjoy looking at the other people who were dancing. Some looked so in love. I looked at my best friend. He was dancing with his girlfriend and I smiled because they looked so happy. Then I hugged one of my friends who was feeling equally sad. She went home early because she wasn't really enjoying herself and I understood that completely. The friend of mine who I was planning on going home with went home early too. Her belly was aching, she said. The guy who she liked accompanied her home. I spend the rest of the night alone, surrounded by many others. Oh well, just my luck!

Luckily I didn't have to bike home alone. I got accompanied by my best friend and his girlfriend. They came on the scooter so I biked home next to them. I was sweating and they were cold. They didn't drive too fast and we talked now and then. It wasn't the best night of my life. It was a night full of mixed emotions, but biking home escorted by my best friend and his girlfriend, I still felt a bit lucky.