On my way to third period, I saw a poster that said, "¡¡¡Noche de Salsa!!! Tickets are sold at lunch. Don't be a smart ass and try to pay with pesos." Finally I can escape my vanilla life for una noche of pasión. The dance being Friday and it currently being Tuesday promised me a week of excitement. I would be like a white Zorro winning over Catherine Zeta-Jones. I'd become a legend for a $5 admission price. I'm finally going to make my parents proud!
Unfortunately, I did not know how to Salsa. I had to spent so much time that Tuesday night/Wednesday morning learning how I could barely stand. I deliriously moseyed around school until lunch when I went to buy my ticket and I went up to the booth lunch with my five dollars I was denied. When I, holding back the tears, asked why, the lady said, "We can't let you in because you would drain the place." I asked, "Drain the place? I don't understand." Woman replied, "I have been specifically instructed not to let you buy a ticket. See, when you'll leave, you'll drain the place. Every girl in there will follow you out, try to get some." It's tough being so great, this must have been what Zorro felt like when they arrested him. I yelled, "¡Chinga tú madre!" and ran away.
Friday night came and I decided to go to the school anyway because there was no way I'm not going to get up on 'em. I got my truck, drove over, and started tailgating. To enhance my appeal, I downed some drank and got sloshed. I then stumbled to the door closest to the faculty parking lot that is always open because teachers are too lazy to walk around the school. Even without my ticket, I got my drunk ass on the dance floor. I went up to one lovely lady and said, "Is your name awesome? Cause people always say I'm fucking awesome." Damn ice queen walked away. I spotted a particularly fine sophomore named Maria on the other side of the gym talking to her friends. The scouting report on her was she was insanely nurturing because she had two mothers or something like that so I had to try my luck. If there's anything I'm good at it's seeming unstable. I said, "Oye, the only time I've been wanted was when I shot some cops in Grand Theft Auto." In hindsight, I shouldn't have been so drunk. After a two hours I grabbed my friend and said, "Why won't anyone do the Salsa with me?" Then, an angel appeared from the corner and said, "I'll dance with you." My heart stopped, jumped, and accelerated all at the same time. When I got her on the dance floor and started dancing something was wrong. She looked frustrated and asked, "Why are you doing the Tengo?" I was crushed, I was never going to undress Catherine Zeta-Jones with a sword now.
I spent the rest of the night discussing Latin American politics and baseball with a small group of people for the rest of the night. I met one girl who told me she was Dominican and I laughed. She asked why and I replied, "Because Dominican women are like Dominican driving, anything goes." Next thing I know I was tossed out and given ASD or ISS or OSS or ASS or some bullshit. The worst part was I had to walk home since I was hammered in my badass José Canseco jersey.