I made a potent postulation the other day while positioning my posterior, imitating a dance I saw on Q In The Community. Here’s the hypothesis: whenever we dance, our facial expressions naturally conform to the attitude we subconsciously wish to convey (my sociology lecturer would have been proud; that is, if I ever had one).
Ever glanced at your reflection while busting a move? Or worse yet, ever seen a video of you dancing, having got captured on camera? I remember seeing a video of me, dancing to my favourite boy’s Leggo I Hand.
Cheese on bread, when I tell you, my face was screw up like I was walking past a dead frog in the road. I suppose we all perform these facial contortions – those of us who do, in fact, dance . . . or at least, try to, like me. It’s rather interesting to observe the varying expressions. So, I have a new pastime. I like going to dance shows now. I see Alvin Jemmott dancing the night away the other day. If you see attitude. Jemmott’s mouth was pointy like his shiny shoes; and he was stepping pretty pretty.
Conversely, I saw a fella decked off in Converse on YouTube, wukking up like the lizard I threw Jeyes Fuid on yesterday . . . face distorted as if he was passing a kidney stone. While it doesn’t take a behaviourist to come up with my supposition, I suspect that – from his expression – he was feeling like a “monster winer” or something to that effect.
While I have no problem with winers in public, there’s a certain indecency when it comes to weiners in public. I know the rain may not be falling as much as we would like these days, but with regard to wetting grass on the side of the road . . . men, what is this habit of exposing the goods so?
At least back the passers-by, nah? I’m beginning to think that some of you are into exhibitionism. I was passing by Parliament building last Sunday and there was a well-dressed guy passing water. Apparently, he stopped his car and walked to its side, so that he could do the deed. The effrontery of the experience had me appalled; and I actually had to circumvent onto the road. What’s more, he turned his head in my direction and said, “Evening, sweetheart.”
I know this is not decorous dialogue, but I mentioned this experience to some ladies. They stated that we women should start a movement: form a faction called “Girls On The Go”. In fact, they revealed to me that there is a device that allows a female to relieve herself rather easily in public.
However, I was opposed to the “fighting water with water” concept. In my most Gandhian tone, I said, “An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind”, while leaving the group. Making my way to the ladies’ room, Carolyn Marshall blurted out, “You go, girl!”
Gentlemen, please take note: At least I visited the appropriate place.
Veoma Ali is an author, actor, broadcaster, advertising exec and, most importantly, a karaoke lover.
