I did a 30-minute cadio workout this morning. Scissor steps, Skaters, Jumping Jacks and Pop squats. The idea came from a phone call I had last night.
That work out drained the energy out of my skin. I’ll continue with it tomorrow.
Then I cooked. I made honey glazed boneless chicken and what Nigerians called Chin Chin. We call them Daddies.
Two things stood out as I cooked.
1. I like African music from the 90’s. Those days when some songs were 10 minutes long. Oliver N’goma, Werrason, Extra Musica. That’s what played in the background.
2. I still can’t dance. I tried to do those Congolese dances. I scored a perfect zero.
Eight years ago, I dated a girl who liked to dance. She knew her salsa and would move those legs and hips like she was from Cuba. She would do her bachata. I couldn’t move a foot in the right direction.
So I went to Big Mike’s on Acacia Avenue for salsa classes behind her back. I thought I’d get the hang of it. I imagined I’d nail it. I thought the next time I stepped on the dance floor with her, I’d leave her breathless. Shame on me.
Turns out, even with secret dance lessons, I still couldn’t fix my dance moves. How did I think I would pull off those moves from DRC?
Anyway, time to eat.
I’ve seen you dance Tuape. You’re not terrible