“Do you want to feel your partner’s sweat or their heartbeat?” She says.
I sit there and begin to think about how little I understand dancing.
“Yeah, uh, their sweat.” I tell her, not wanting to feel much of anything in, or on anyone. She begins to tell me about how the Spanish love to sweat on each other.
“I know- yeah” I say as she tells me about a salsa club she went to one time.
“I salsa-ed once in Spain.” I tell her. She continues on about how there are so many new and exciting forms of dance.
“Yeah. Right.” I say, following along as I try to remember the name of that German girl I’d flopped around on the dance floor with once. I think it was salsa.
“And Russians! The way that they dance is so…”
“Yeah, I know. Mhm.”
“Elegant.” She finishes.
There is a pause and she asks “What do you like to do?”
“I write, and I like to read.”
“Oh no way.”
“Yeah, I really enjoy writers like Camus and Sartre. Existential crap like that.”
“Yeah.” She says. “I know.”
“Yeah, I mean I don’t just read pretentious crap.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“I like things like Harry Potter and..”
“Yeah, they’re good.”
“And The Hunger Games was good up till the third book.”
“And, like, there is just too many great writers out there, y’know?” I say.
“I also like poetry, I like to write it sometimes.”
“One of my favorite poems is The Hollow Men. Ever read it?”
“Yeah—I mean, I’m not sure.”
“It’s great, you should read it.”
“Yeah. I will, I will.”
“I could send it to you.”
“That’d be great.”
“Cool, I can give you poetry and you can teach me to dance. Perfect.” I say.
“Yeah. Do you like movies much?” She asks. I take a sip of my drink and think about the movie I wanted to write once. Something about a man who goes back in time to kill his dog or something. Oh well, it was too unrealistic.
“I’m not much of a movie guy. John is though.” I say.
John looks up from his phone.