REWIND: THE DANCE FLOOR BLOCKER

OK, I'm being lazy; I'll admit it. Anywho, here is an oldie but goodie. I'm going back to Vegas soon, in June actually, but this posts just reminds me why I got tired of going approximately every 3 months. All those times my boyfriend didn't want to come and told me to just take my homegirl with me... If he only knew. That silly goose. He acts as if it's known as Heavenly City...

At the OPM nightclub that night. Aww, when I had braces

So we were musing about her Vegas trip and it got me thinking of an incident that happened to me in Vegas. The "incident" was this guy I met at the OPM in Caesars Palace. He had a 6 inch flat-top that didn't stand straight up, it was actually at a 90 degree angle, as if it was trying to run from his face. He carried an old-school "banana" cell phone with a moto razor glued to it. He also had on a very "colorful" suit. Some of you Vegas strip clubbers may have seen him before. He seems like he frequents the clubs on the strip.
Upon our entrance to the dance floor, he started dancing with me. Now when I say dancing, I mean he was crouched down on the floor with his legs wide open. His butt was probably about 1.5 feet off the ground and he somewhat hopped with the beat while thrusting his pelvis against me. His pelvis was literally hitting my knee.
So my dancing, turned into a boring lil side-to-side step, so that he would see that I was uninterested and move-on. But nope, he just kept on hoping his lil heart away. But this is the kicker... He was also talking through all of this: "Damn you look good" "Do you wanna be in my video""You ever been in a video""Whooo yeah, that's it, get it girl, you doing it now" *rolling eyes* By this time, I dropped the side-to- side and was just swaying. He actually put his hands on my hips to try to move me. We were at the end of the dance floor and people were walking behind him, laughing. It was an interesting picture. And if I wasn't so embarrassed I would have gotten a picture of him. So when I stopped moving all together and tilted my head up and started scratching my scalp, he finally got the picture. But he didn't leave without giving me a card which contained his myspace address. Yes, he has a "myspace" card.

Unfortunately, I never returned to the dance floor. I didn't want to take my chances of running into the "hopping" man, as he blocked the entrance to the dance floor. But then, there was another dude, but that's a whole other story of irritation, for another day.So here's his address. Check out his page, he's "interesting." And he loves that banana/razor phone, more than I love my blackberry.

All pics were snatched from his myspace page.

No lie, check him out his myspace profile here.