I ended up at a Salsa club in the basement of a karaoke bar a few nights back. And as odd as this may sound to people not from this fair city, it seems perfectly normal when you’re there. well mostly normal at least. But because ending up there was completely unplanned and entirely a surprise, I was not properly dressed. It sounded like a good adventure and since my ride home wasn’t going to be done working for a few more hours, I had some time to kill. I vowed not to dance, paid the cover and made my way to the bar. I didn’t, however, make it to the bar before I found myself counting in my head (left, left, right right, one, two, three, four… ). The room was packed with people. Someone took my photo and handed me a card with a web address of a local Latino community. The band was awesome and a few hours later my toes were bloody (see: not properly dressed), I had managed to work up a sweat and I was starving. I also feel pretty confident next time I go I will at least be able to keep up with the basic steps.

My night ended with an amazing burger from a nearby bar and a lengthy conversation about the definition of ground beef and corn vs grass fed.

I’m keeping a pair of closed-toed heels and a flouncy skirt in my bag from now on. You never know when you’re going to need them.

I guess these things happen when you work in a resturant.