Dancing with Valentino

Tucked away with those memories is my dance with Valentino - a tango.   It radiates a raw sexuality that made me the envy of a lot of actresses and I still live it over and over within my mind.   I can’t start considering those days and push the memories back that part of my mind that stays closed.   I’m not going to permit the present to hinder the past.

I’m thinking of leaving when Aser pours me a drink, then another and another.   Before I understand it, I’m so on top of booze, that I actually think I could remember the dance routines.   Aser notices the difference.

“You feel like dancing now? ” he said.

I stumble from my chair and try to hum “ ” from a Ziegfeld musical I was in back in the 20’s.   Holding a glass filled with whiskey, I close my eyes and with the

song playing in my head attempt a number of the dance moves.   I’m whirling, around and around with visions of being on the Ziegfeld stage with thousands of people watching, i quickly crash in to the table sending bottles and ashtrays flying through the air.   I’m taking a look at Aser and he doesn’t move.   He’s sitting there with beer dripping down his shirt and a disgusted look on his face. I laugh.

I always appear to laugh at the wrong moment; evidently Aser didn’t have a sense of humor.   The room resembles a scene from a slapstick movie minus the pies - and the more I think about any of it, the louder I laugh until Aser suddenly stacks up and slams his hand on the table.   That gets my attention and the laughter stops.   He hurt his hand and I am happy to see that it is his finger-snapping hand.   All that toe-tapping and finger-snapping gets on a person’s nerves.

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)