MOJO

Mojo

“I want some of your mojo!” I declare, laughing, as I fall in step with the 6’ 6’ black gentleman on the Casino dance floor.  I  haven’t been familiar this  brazen part of me in along while.  She shows up once in a blue moon unexpectedly. Well the moon is full tonight and Jupiter is making its way into my astrological stage setting  of 2020. 

He takes my arms and hands. We start drifting around on the linoleum.  I look down.  His long black and white pattened leather shoes guide us like ballasters. The square toes  navigating and cutting through any obstructions in the floor’s lower hemispheres.

I look up. His eyes obsured by black opaque sungasses,reflecting the rotating  mirror light globe on the ceiling. “That’s not fair” are the words that fly out of my mouth. I feel that sort of tickling feeling that arises when I know I have connected with someone’s funny bone. That I can be real and teasing. 

“What’s not fair.?” He smiles and almost groans in his deep velvet voice. I can picture his eyebrows raising up behind the sunglasses. “This is going to be fun.” I feel.

“Not fair that I can’t see your eyes but you can see mine.” The music is so loud that I can’t hear his response but can feel him chuckle.

We glide around some more. I allow his big tall body to maneuver me. A step back, swing. A twirl around slow, gentle. “ You’re so smooth. I like that”, I acknowledge and let myself relax into him just a little bit more.

“I had to get in line to get a dance with you.” I say accusingly. He laughs, enjoying his status.  “But you’re my number one.” He taunts. 

I  start laughing good heartedly. I can’t stop. “ Why you laughin’? “ He wants to know.

“You don’t even know my name!” So, he asks “So what is it? I want ta know.”

“You ever go to the saturday market.?” he inquires as he twirls me and then pulls me up like I’m a car, parking me on his chest.” I feel his member moving loose in his pants as we brush bodies pressing in and out. It’s stiffening. I feel scared mostly, a little excited.

“Yes, I try to ride my bike there every week to pick up my vegies.” I tell him.

“Well, you look for me. I’ve been there with my smoked meat stand for 15 years. Ever since they started. You like smoked meat? You’ll be hungry after you ride your bike.” “I’ll want to eat lunch at some point.” I say.

He smiles. “Well you come find me and I’ll feed you. You can’t miss me. I always wear my top hat and tux at the market. Then we can do a little swing. There’s a cool band there this Saturday. You can be my dance partner.”

I say I will look for him. “What kind of meat do you like?” he asks. I have smoked and barbeque pork, beef, and goat.

Well, I’m trying not to eat red meat these days.” 

“ I got smoked turkey legs. You eat those?” he wants to know. “ Those sound really good. I could eat those.” 

We bob and sache, twirl some more. “Have you eaten collards?” he wants to know. “Yes, I went to the collard festival on 22nd St South last spring and had some. but they were way too salty. “ “Those people at the collard festival they don’t know how to cook collards good. You ‘ll have some of my collards. I been cooking collards my whole life. “

Ok. I’m happy to try your collards with the turkey leg.” 

I am thinking “He ’s considering this as a fair exchange with my future debt being met with sex. I’m thinking “I don’t want to have to do anything to be fed and get some of his dancing mojo. I say to myself. “I don’t owe him something I am not agreeing to.”

The dance comes to an end and he looks at me with his sunglasses holding my hands tight. “I mean it. I’m expecting you. See you Saturday.” “I’ll be there.” I assure him. We drift apart, each swiveling into the arms of another partner for the next dance.

At the market, I locate the top hat above the crowd. Sure enough, he is the king of the smoke wagon, the smell of savory meats wafting in the air.

He sights me and waves me over, while moving towards me. “ I was just heading for the dance floor.” he exclaims, acting genuinely happy to see me. He beckons me to follow him. I tell him I  have just arrived and need to look for a friend and her new baby, which is true. “ I’ll meet you over there in a bit. “ Ok.” He heads through the crown towards the music. 

After connecting with my friend and baby and setting up camp, I go over to the dance floor.

He is dancing with an older blonde woman with cleavage, short dress and heels. I sit and watch. He dances a few more with other partners and then sees me. 

He beckons into the next dance, a slow swing. We move together in the yellow sunlight, the bass, guitar and banjo serenading. I tease him “ You have so many dance partners! I’m nobody special.” We laugh, he throwing back his lofty hatted head. “ Yeah, but you my number 1.” We laugh again and swing some more.

Alexandra Morgan 

January 1, 2020

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s