It’s 3:30am in San Pancho
Our legs are numb from dancing
And the mezcal has got us wondering
If we’re still drunk or starting to get hungover
I’m sitting at a filthy plastic table
Eating a quesadilla with mushrooms from a can
And frijoles from a plastic tub
But it’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever tasted
Why is this so good?
It’s a combination of factors, she says
I met this woman five minutes ago
I don’t know her name
And she doesn’t know mine
But she looks me square in the eye and asks
Why do we fall in love with people we shouldn’t?
I don’t know, why?
It’s a combination of factors, she says
The stranger
***
Earlier I attended the big dance
In the flesh
But my mind
Obsessing about Maria
She stood out on the crowded dance floor
Pink v-neck, jean cutoffs, no shoes
She looked at her bare feet
And danced with wild abandon
Like a little girl
But with the body of a woman
Her shirt danced, too
Like intertwined lovers
Beneath pink linens
She was out of place here
At the big dance
With live big band music
But so were we
Gringos, most of us
But a lot of Mexicans, too
From La Ciudad, Guadalajara, Sayulita
We came for the live music and for lindy hop
A dance, a swing dance
I came to San Pancho for a lindy hop festival
But I was running away
Way more than I was coming
***
Earlier, at dusk, I sat on a rickety stool at an outdoor bar
Everything is at least a little bit rickety
And a little bit outdoors
In San Pancho
Maria was tending bar
Yes the same Maria
It was her bar
She was the first person I met in San Pancho
It was earlier, still daytime, already hot, maybe 11am
She was walking a little hotdog with perky ears, no leash
His jet black coat matched the enormous mane atop Maria’s head
That fell in haphazard layers down her shoulders and back
Maria spoke to me, in broken English
I responded, in broken Spanish
She helped me find my room
Assured me no one would ever lock the outdoor gate
Nunca?
No, nunca
Maria was the nicest
And the prettiest
In San Pancho
She was also my neighbor
From my balcony
I could see her front door
Across a patio speckled with garbage
But to be fair to San Pancho
Let’s just call it stuff, not garbage
San Pancho is a small town
So it was more coincidence than scheming
That I would run into Maria three times in one day
But there was a little scheming, too
And it was also a long day
And a long night
I didn’t ever get much sleep in San Pancho
By the time I’d had a cold shower
The only option
And gotten myself into bed
The roosters would already be crowing
False advertising!
Fuckers never wait for sunrise
At least not in San Pancho
Shortly after, the sound of Mexican music
Blaring on little speakers the size of sand dollars
Because everything is under construction
In San Pancho
At least a little bit
By now it was my last day here
I was starting to get used to it
Amid the roosters
And the sounds of construction
And the tinny Mexican music
I would stare at the broken ceiling fan
Thinking about how much my feet hurt
From dancing
And Maria
See, I had invited Maria to attend the big dance
With the big band
That was my scheme
Back when I was trying so hard to flirt with her at the bar
Women don’t like it when you try too hard
There’s a right amount of trying
And I’m trying to figure out what that is
Because it’s different
For different women
I didn’t think she would come to the dance
Perhaps I was trying too hard at the bar
Tengo novio, she said
¿Dónde está? I asked
You see I was flirting
With Maria at the bar
Her bar
Using flirting logic
How can you have a boyfriend
If he isn’t here right this second?
Maria didn’t know
But her fellow bartender had already sold her out
Given me intel
Maria was available, she said
With a certain look that conveyed
Go for it
There are things you notice
After a breakup
It’s like a sixth sense
Or maybe a seventh
The gift
And the danger
Is that virtually anyone
That’s right, almost anyone
Can be your quarry
At least it seems that way
Whether or not it’s true
Or maybe everything is exactly the same as it always is
But I am different
Seeing things that may not have been there
Signs that I shouldn’t have acted on
At Maria’s bar in San Pancho
Half-sitting on a stool, half standing up
Ready to walk away
Or run
Sipping warm mezcal
I tried hard to get her attention
While trying just as hard to look like I wasn’t
Truth is I had no business being around people
See, I was less than a month off a busted engagement
Serious shit
We had named our kids and everything
Then one morning
The morning after Valentine’s Day, in fact
She fucked me
Good and hard
And then she was gone
Forever
Should have known better
Because she never liked morning sex
Or sex at all, really
But she did that time
The last time
* * *
I came to San Pancho
On a whim
Buying my airfare the expensive way
Missing the sign up deadline
For the lindy hop classes I wanted
And my ex
Her mind was not at all connected to her heart
But I still loved her
It was not even a month
Couldn’t just turn that shit off
She left me
But she also freed me
Now I could do whatever I wanted
Go wherever I pleased
A blessing
A curse?
I guess it’s a matter of perspective
But I wasn’t thinking about any of that
I was only thinking about Maria
And the things we could do
If only she wanted to
***
In San Pancho
And really almost everywhere I go
I’m surrounded by lindy hoppers
They’re in every major city
And many not-so-major cities, too
Yes lindy hop is a dance
Usually
But not always
Between people of different genders
Involving touching
And intimacy
But it’s not an intimate dance
It’s not tango
Or zouk
All dances
On some level
Model intercourse
But lindy hop
At least to me
Feels more like basketball
Than sex
For this reason
I’d been careful
To avoid casual hookups
With lindy hoppers
Getting naked
And exchanging bodily fluids
Other than hot breath and sweat
Could mean no more basketball
And basketball
Is way less complicated than sex
You can even do it in public!
But I couldn’t think about basketball
Or lindy hop
Because all I wanted
Was Maria to agree to a game of one-on-one
With me
She could probably sense my hunger
I needed to know if the boyfriend was real
I had learned something from the last one
And the last one
And maybe even the one before that
Sometimes people aren’t clear with their intentions
Sometimes those intentions change
Sometimes those intentions were never there to begin with
And that’s a really nice way to put it
***
Once I had a five year relationship
Back when I was too young
To have any idea what the fuck that meant
For our final year
I guess we didn’t know it was our final year
Not at the time
We tried an open relationship
We had rules
Everything was okay
As long as we talked about it
So I’m at my grandmother’s house in New York
And my girlfriend’s in San Francisco
And my entire Sicilian extended family is sitting around a long table
Eating a cassata cake
And alternating sips of espresso and sambuca
I’m on the phone with my girlfriend
Not even really sure why
She’s telling me about a guy
Another lindy hopper
Burt, she said
I had seen him around
He was older
And kinda short
When he kissed me it tasted like cigars, she said
Gross, I thought
But with my whole family there
I didn’t say anything
It was so weird, she went on to tell me
When we had sex, his dick wasn’t even hard the whole time
I felt a heat well up inside me
From my also not hard dick
Not at the time
Right up to my temples
I wanted to scream
Throw the phone out the window
Tie the absurdly long phone cord into a noose
And hang myself
Right there in front of my whole family
Over the cassata cake
And the espresso, the sambuca
Well that’s nice, maybe we can talk about it more when I get home
She didn’t break the rules!
We talked about it, right?
But then tell me why the fuck
Why the fuck did it hurt so much?
Maybe I could hear something
That wasn’t being said
Because a few days later
I returned to San Francisco
And she left me
For Burt
Moved to Twin Peaks
Into his apartment
With his cigar breath
And his soft dick
Left me wondering
Was I too tall?
Did my breath smell too good?
Was I too hard?
Since when is that a problem?
Before I had time
To get self-conscious about being too hard
While having sex
I was hit with the worst depression of my life
Moved back in with my parents for six months
I didn’t know how to do a relationship
For sure
And I didn’t know how to do a breakup
Either
And this is why I wanted Maria
So badly
Yes because she was friendly
And beautiful
And waifish
And she danced with her whole body
Not her mind
Yes all those things
But also because by now I had learned
That breakups don’t need daily milkshakes
And six months living with Mom and Dad
Well maybe sometimes breakups do need those things
But this breakup only needed one thing
Maria
***
Maria, Maria, Maria
Maria wouldn’t stop dancing
Looked like a mishmash of hippie dancing
And some kind of country line dance
She smiled from ear to ear
But still looked innocently at her feet
As her hair and her boobs bounced around
In disheveled and frenetic wonder
I was falling for her in every conceivable way
She had brought some friends
The bartender spy
And two other women I didn’t know
I kept watching Maria dance
Every so often I looked away
Just in case
But she kept looking at her feet
As though in a trance
I was distracted by some conversation
Two of the organizers were talking
Who let the locals in?
In a split-second decision
I realized I should come clean
Don’t worry, I invited them!
They’re just some friends of mine from the bar
They won’t stay long
Now I sprung into action
The song changed, something a little slower, good
Maria, let me show you the dance we do here
She smiled and took a few steps in my direction
I reached out both my hands, which she clasped
With my left hand
I took hers
And placed it on my right shoulder
At the same time
I put my right hand on the small of her back
Pulling her closer, gently
But keeping space between us
Basketball
Not sex
With my left hand
I softly took ahold of her right
And held it at eye level
Step, step, rock-step
Say it with me
Step, step, rock-step
I talked softly
Under the music
My lips nearly touching her ear
And led with my body
Which always follows my heart
She was clumsy
She looked at her feet
But she followed me
And then time folded
Our bodies became one
We hit a dancer flow
A million songs behind us already
But still she looked at her feet
¡Ahora, mírame!
Our eyes locked
Her smile softened
Her big brown eyes widened
We were still in a flow
Dancing as one form
Was this basketball?
Or sex?
I hadn’t a clue
The pounding in my chest
So hard it was distracting me
In an instant
The moment was gone
Maria’s friends beckoned
Her hands fell to her sides
¿Y entonces, Maria?
No se
And in a flash the four of them scurried away
Into the dusty parking lot
And down the cracked and cobbled streets of San Pancho
***
I didn’t follow them
That Romeo bullshit doesn’t work
Only in movies
I gave them plenty of time to leave
And once they were good and gone
I went out into the same parking lot
And I called my friend Samantha
We were about the same age
Both married to other people for decades
I divorced, she’s still with hers, good for them
Sammie and I were old neighbors
In San Francisco back in the 90s
She helped me return to earth
After my girlfriend left me for Burt
Cigar-mouthed
Soft-dicked
Burt
Sammie and I hadn’t talked in years
But if anyone could understand me now
It would be the woman who understood me then
And “understand me” is a nice way of saying
That she ripped me a new asshole
Look at you! 42 years old?
You’re a grown-ass man acting like a child
Sure, sure, chase tail all you want
But goddammit for the last time
Don’t fall in love so easily
Don’t trust someone until they deserve it
Don’t give someone everything they ask for after three dates
Learn how to say no
And for fuck’s sake
Set some goddamn boundaries!
***
I went back into the dance
It was getting late
The floor was slick
Almost like an ice-skating rink
On a slick floor
With the right shoes
You can dance for hours
Without getting tired
There were people from San Francisco
I largely ignored them
I can play basketball with them anytime
Here I got to dance with strangers
From all over Mexico
And all around the world
Even a darling French couple
Absolute scorchers on the dance floor
Finally I’m worn paper thin
It’s 3:30am
And I wander back into the same dusty parking lot
For more mezcal
And impossibly good quesadillas
That’s where we began
When I met the stranger
I still don’t know her name
But I will never forget
How we marveled at the strange beauty
Of parking lot quesadillas
Born of canned mushrooms
And plastic tub beans
Somehow this stranger
She knew what I needed to hear
Right when I needed to hear it
Why do we fall in love with people we shouldn’t?
I don’t know, why?
It’s a combination of factors, she says, the stranger
But is it?
How can we know who we should love?
And who we shouldn’t?
And why?
People fall in love
By accident
They don’t schedule it in their day planner
Put it on a todo list
Maybe it really is a combination of factors
And nobody can put their finger on it
Maybe we all just get swept up in the moment
And fall in love over plastic tubs of frijoles?
***
My body had already failed a good while ago
And now I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open
So I decide it’s time to leave the dance hall parking lot
And the quesadillas
And find my way back to my room
My cold shower
And the broken ceiling fan
I’m sure the roosters are preparing
To wake me up
Well before they’re due
Those fuckers
At 4am the streets of San Pancho
Still aren’t totally quiet
A few dogs barking, an occasional car, and what’s this?
The sounds of skateboarding?
And giggling?
Maria?
Sure enough
Maria, still barefoot, skateboarding, at 4am
Which was really just stumbling around
On cracks and cobblestones
Crease!
She couldn’t pronounce my name
So adorable
Add that to the combination of factors
I was falling in love over and over again
As if it wasn’t under my control
Perhaps it wasn’t
Esta es mi novio, Manuel. Manuel, Crís es un bailador!
Mucho gusto I said
As they giggled away
Into the dark, dusty San Pancho night
The boyfriend
He’s real
I wanted to think about this
But suddenly a man on a moped was nearly on top of me
I didn’t see him coming at all
He stuck out a bony finger and said
In a very thick accent
Go home
Esta bien, amigo, voy a ir a casa
No! Go home, right now
I got the message
But I didn’t really know what to do
Other than keep walking to my room
I was at least half way there already
So that’s what I did
One cold shower
And a few hours later
When those fucking roosters woke me up
Again
I stared at the broken ceiling fan
Again
And I thought
Not about Maria
Not this time
I thought about me
I thought about a man
Who fell in love too easily
Then he came to San Pancho
And never loved the same way again
