2003-11-04 - 8:50 p.m.

Who says you shouldn�t eat half a bag of Chex Mix and a Fun Size Snickers before you work out? I think it did me well.

Me thinks it added to my performance.

But why did the black girls laugh at me?

Me thinks it�s because they�re jealous and angry that a lil� ol� white, er, olive skinned girl like myself can have so much soul. The groove in my moves is so much they can�t stand it. They giggle and they have their sideways glances that I ignore with my funkified head held high.

The mix tonight was tight as fuck. Not the usual horseshit songs for seniors�no. I was gettin� my ass DIZZZOWN!

I tried to hold the funk back, but, you know you can�t control the funk! Shit! I�m black on the inside, a small detail the laughing black girls were unaware of. When the groove goes down, I can�t stop myself�.I must move. The moves I make have people steppin� aside, mentally, and staring at me. I see them shooting glances in my general direction. I see them, runnin� scared inside their brain. I hear what they�re saying all quiet like, lips not moving�.

�Who does she think she is?�

�Lookit her all �arms up in the air�! Where do she think she is? Up in da club?!�

Rick Astley puts me right back into my 90�s aerobics class moves. If I were allotted more space than just this simple Curves square, I would be grapevining all over their chubby middle-aged, grandma asses.

I do a pull down, knee lift, then another. My moves are in perfect timing with�oh no..it�s not Rick anymore�now it�s Vogue time�Madonna says it�s time to Vogue.

Everybody go with the flow�

But nobody is flowin� like I�m flowing.

Oh fucka! No�oh yes it is�

Oh Sheilah�.Oh fucking Sheilah!

Let me love you till the mornin� comes.

Oh no you di-int!

I finish up the leg pushing machine cuz I need to jump on the square baby! I need to move!

Cuz now it�s Sheila E�.Glamorous Life and I gotta do a little arms to the side, arms in the air, arms to the side, arms in the air�.

And they are scared! Lookit them run! Wiping their noses with the backs of their hands, eyes all drippin wet, cryin� from runnin� scared.

Tossin� fearful glances over their shoulders.

They can�t handle the funk groove emanating from me and my olive skinned self.

They can�t handle my perfect moves and perfect synchronicity in time to �.oh no!

Nu-uh!

Push It! Push It good!

Salt n Pepa�s here!

Oh Lord..in effect no less.

They want me to Push It!

Oh, and I push it�I push it real good.

Sing it with me.

But, I digress�.I must confess�.the gals at my Curves are scared no less.

My lime green nylon tights confuse and blend their brains. I could spend all day explaining the psycho powers my lime green nylon tights have on these women�s brains, but I won�t, cuz I just don�t have the tiiimmeee people� I don�t� But their brains are scrambled�they smell limes and they taste chicken flavored rice a roni and they don�t know why.

They can�t look directly at them, yet they can�t turn away. My lime green tights are Faces of Death, a fiery car crash and Marilyn Manson videos. My lime green tights are the footage of a baby being born, still bloody and mucus covered from the womb.

And when I top them off with my Elvis commemerative postage stamp oversized t-shirt�well�they lose their minds.

The ladies lose their fucking minds.

And still my funk force field boggles their minds. It has them cowering and shivering like little bunny rabbits hiding from The Man.

And still I am getting my groove on.

All the way on.

And I know they see me. It�s not all out there for them to see, but they can feel it. They see what I�m not puttin� out there and they want me to�even though they are afraid.

Cuz, I�m what they want to be.

They want the freedom and the lack of inhibition.

And slowly, I see them. I catch them�making their own little moves of freedom.

An outstretched arm, a knee lift, a kick.

They look around really quick to see if anyone noticed. If anyone noticed they�re breaking out of the herd�. If anyone noticed that for a second, they were a sheep wearing blue suede shoes�

God forbid you don�t just jog in place on a square. God forbid you let your body take over where your mind doesn�t need to be. Cuz, with music, it ain�t about the mind people.

It�s about the body.

God forbid you follow the olive skinned girl in the lime green tights and pink Elvis postage stamp t-shirt.

Cuz the black girls might laugh at you.

But what they don�t know is that the black girls came back and put forth their own funk that very next day.

And the black girls laugh no more.

�

�

previous - next