The Dominicana That Got Away

This post is really about taking chances. So, this past holiday season I got to DJ one of the biggest holiday parties ever. There were all these employees and staff and execs. I forget what the company name was but it was a lot of people. There was great music by yours truly, dancing, karaoke, food and a lot (A LOT) of alcohol. It was Saturday night of all nights. I’m sure I was drained because I go hard during those holiday parties.

The great thing about this party was there was a lot of beautiful women. By a lot, what I actually mean is if this was high school, I would have been known as the thirsty school man whore. Good thing I’ve matured right? Well, as I always do when I dj, I look around the room to see who I’d like to try to get at. And there she was… a short-haired, brown skinned model-looking Haitian girl. You were expecting the Dominican girl right? I’ll get to her in a moment.

Well, here is where the story goes south. The whole night I’m looking at this Haitian girl, beautiful by all accounts. I finally muster the courage to go talk to her…after the party was over because to protect my job I limit who I try to talk to. My rule: if I have to put in work or use someone to put in a word, then I keep my distance till the end. This girl gave me no decent attention. To make matters worse, her c-blocking friend comes in outta nowhere all loud talking about, “Girl, don’t talk to him. He works here!”. Ok *deep breath*…first of all, why you in our bidness? Second, what does me working “here” have to do with anything? I make good money here. I’m in demand here. I’m the only black employee here. Anyway, I digress. Here’s how where the Dominican girl comes in: (keep scrolling for more…)

The whole time I was trying to get at this girl, there was this Dominican girl who requested songs from me, looked me in my eyes when she talked to me, saw me, engaged with me. And she was beautiful. I mean, I’m imagining her and all the Spanish is flowing through me. This girl even insisted that I join them at the club after the party. You know Latinas and Island folk don’t know how to stop having fun. And you know how this story ends? Tragically. I never bothered to ask for her number during or after the party with all the chances in the world. She was literally pulling my arm insisting I go to the club (which I did but way after and it was too packed, plus I had worship the next morning, etc.)

The Whole Point:

Sometimes it is entirely better to spend less time obsessing with something that you have to force when an opportunity is presented to you. I still have occasional night terrors having passed that Dominicana up. The other point: opportunities don’t always return so if you have it, take it. Take the L. It’s ok. At least you went for it. And that’s going to count for a lot.

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