Sex with a new partner

Pimpin’ is the new black and there is a new lesbian in town. It is for these two very important reasons that That’s Not Chinese, Tree, D-Dog and others decided to go to The Pimps of Joytime. If you aren’t familiar with the band, Derek Rath of NPR sums them up best, “This is funky. It has it all: soul, funk, punk, afrobeat, rap.”

As soon as we walked into the venue our eyes saw the glory of the comeback of disco. Being that there was an opening band, we decided to find a seat and take it all in. Tree was the first to comment on the crowd, specifically, the man in the cargo pants, Birkenstocks and ‘ReNew Orleans’ t-shirt, “These venues are always full of a bunch of funky old liberals getting down.”

As I watched several funky old liberals getting down I noticed a young, rather dapper fellow in a pin-striped suit with an orange, big-collar dress shirt and a pin-striped fedora, “He looks nice,” I said while pointing him out to Tree and That’s Not Chinese. Just like Love Unlimited, I fancy a high steppin’, hip dressin’ fella. A few seconds later, ‘nice’ was no longer in my view. Instead, I saw someone wearing baggy pants and a basketball jersey ‘complimented’ with a sport jacket (he must have misunderstood the term ‘sport’) and  a tan fedora. “Wow,” I said. Tree needed no further information to know what I was wowing about and responded, “Straight guys are so weird.”

It was at this time that That’s Not Chinese interjected, “New lesbian in town.” She was attempting to slyly, major emphasis on slyly, point  out the ‘new lesbian’ who had joined her this evening; however, there was nothing sly about her strong head gesture. It was so strong, in fact, she may end up needing an adjustment. “Best be careful,” I advised, “You don’t want to hurt your pretty little head.”

This brought That’s Not Chinese’s focus back to fashion. “I want a fedora. Everyone has a fedora.” “You want to be like everyone else?” Tree said with disgust while adjusting the brim of his rakish driving cap. “Hey,” I responded with feigned pain because I had just become ‘everyone.’ “Look,” That’s Not Chinese said while gracefully pointing out the everyones, “All of the boys have on fedoras and beanies and afros. I want one.” Not one to follow the crowd or let my friends down, I offered her my fedora. She gladly accepted the offer and, after putting the fedora on her head just so, asked, “What about you? What will you wear now?” “No need to worry about me. I’ve got a real afro, but my pants are suppressing it.”

A little while later we were all out on the dance floor. Disco  dancing comes somewhat naturally for me, primarily because my hands and arms are always moving the opposite direction of my legs and feet. We were trying out all of the moves – the basic disco two-step, the California hustle, the rotation with a side walk, shadow stepping, and the knife in the back (my all-time favorite that was featured on Airplane) – and really tearing up the dance floor. Unfortunately, there were a few times when we were completely offbeat. “I don’t know most of these songs,” Tree told me, “So it makes it hard for me to dance to them.” “Take your time,” I told him, “Don’t give up. Dancing to a song you don’t know is like sex with a new partner – a little uncoordinated every now and again, but still a good time.”