Confession on the dance floor

I was at The Ship’s Captain’s Cabin last Friday night. It’s a nice place to unwind and catch the dance bug. Throw in some drinks and a good company and you’ve got a party. The music just gets you there. Oh, there’s also the drag show by the ‘sexy divas’, strictly for your eyes only. They’re very entertaining and nobody’s complaining.

The show ended and the band started playing. Pretty good, maybe that’s because they’re playing it safe. Towards the end of the last session, people started dancing on the dance floor and they continued as the DJ started spinning the favorites, mostly classic disco tracks to current RnB and Hip hop beats. I was naturally on the dance floor doing my usual stuff and accompanied occasionally by a lady friend.

The beat got hotter and several chicks from the table beside the dance floor approached. Two of them came near, one facing me. Still moving, I looked at her and smiled. She smiled back and in less than a second changed her expression to utterly puzzled. She now has a - Hold it! - I know you! - If I could just get your name out! – look.

I decided to play along and sport the same look, smiling from ear to ear watching her frowns getting deeper. She literally scratched her head and I did the same; it’s fun playing this total recall game.

Finally she leaned over and said “You look very familiar. Like my friend Rin. Seriously!”

I smiled and thought “whoa, talk about tables turning!” Heck, I think she looks familiar too but there’s no name to be exchanged from my side of the table.
“Who’s that again? Rin? I’m not him. I’m Agus” I confessed.

Somehow between my amused expression and broad grin she sensed that this ‘friend’ of hers is playing a trick on her and so she got excited and yelled “Hey! You’re lying! Rin, I know it’s you. Quit playing.” She gave me a light punch with a shove on my shoulder.

“Seriously, I’m Agus, not Rin. I swear!” I assured her, before things got really physical.

“Really? Damn, you look like him!” she said, still puzzled.

I sensed a tinge of disappointment and quickly offered a proper introduction.

“Hi, I’m Agus. Nice to meet you”

“Hi, I’m (for the life of me, I can’t remember her name). Nice to meet you too”. We shook hands and started dancing. But not before she asked “Won’t your girlfriend be pissed?”

“Nah, she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just close friends”
All this while she was sitting at our table, catching her breath and re-hydrating.

We danced to several tunes and my lady friend joined us. The two girls talked and they shared information, mostly about my identity and the actual “Rin” person. Moments later my friend conveyed the information to me. It turned out, to her, I look like Raja Azrin of 4u2c, once a popular boy band in the early nineties. She on the other hand was a member of a female rap group called Res2, both were from the same era.

Ok, it figures that they’re friends but the similarities are beyond me as I don’t have a clue as to who she was referring to. Besides, there wasn’t enough lighting and she could be … well, drunk.

Oh but I wasn’t going to complain. She looks very much a Malaysian with a hint of exotic appeal. She’s my height, super slim and she could shake what her mama gave her. We dropped it like it’s hot! I handled it with total r.e.s.p.e.c.t of course. You can’t be too careful in the clubs. Nuff said.

I retreated a few times to our table to catch my breath and have a few sips. I told my friends about the incident and they all agreed that I should give her my number. “Fish! I didn’t bring my name card!” But I don’t want to be seen exchanging numbers on the handphone…

I struggled between finding ways to get her number and reasoning with myself to let it go.

In the end I decided to leave it at that and simply enjoy dancing the night away.

All things must come to an end and it was closing time. The lights came on and everyone slowed down. She smiled to acknowledge a fun night, leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheeks. An appreciation for the r.e.s.p.e.c.t I guess.

Or maybe it’s the sign, a last call for getting her number.

Quick! Think!

As everyone walked back to their tables I struggled with myself again. Should I give her my number? Should I ask for hers?

The lyrics for TLC’s “No Scrubs” echoed in my head “… no, I don’t want your number, no, I don’t want to give you mine, and no I don’t want to meet you no where, no I don’t want none of your time…”

Ok then, that’s settled.

I let it go. And so it is, I only have this to confess, nothing more, nothing less.