Eating and Dancing Mexican

Sounds weird doesn’t it? I know, when I meant “eating Mexican” I meant “eating Mexican food”. So, for all of you looking for a sexual innuendo in my words: well done. Anyway, the point is, people ask me what’s the difference between Mexican spicy and Indian spicy, for example. Well, I think it is like comparing eating Mexican food to dancing with a Mexican.

At first, you are just there, waiting for your meal, something average like enchiladas. At first you see the dish and it looks fine, it looks harmless, right? Now imagine you are at the club, and you see this Mexican guy inviting you for a dance, “Hola señorita, fancy dancing?”, he’ll say. You look at him and think to yourself: “oh well, he looks fine, he is short but cute, harmless, right?”, but, is he really?

Just like Mexican food, dancing with a Mexican is a matter of going with the flow. At first he reaches for your hand and takes you to the dance floor. The same way you reach for salsa with that crispy nacho.

As soon as he grabs you by the waist (the Mexican guy, not the enchilada) you are feeling a tangling sensation going through your body. You don’t get it at first, but the room feels warmer, your cheeks blush, your pupils widen, and your heart… oh your heart, it’ll be pounding with desire. The same when you have Mexican spicy, it’s just there, hanging out in your mouth, then chemical reactions begin to occur and your body prepares for a domino effect beyond its comprehension.

“Oh yeah… you are next my loverrrr”

The tiny Mexican spins you around, gracefully touches your hips, whispers “corazon” while turning you right and left in the middle of the song, holds your body closer to his. You begin to sweat, to transpire desire (please read this with a strong Mexican accent, c’mon, I know you can), you want this sensations to stop, but you hope they never end. It becomes addictive, you want more, but you don’t know if you can handle it.

The same with Mexican food, you keep on munching, it seems harmless, tiny chilli seeds can be seen in the mix, but you don’t mind. You think you can handle it. The heat rises, your sight goes blurry, you need some air, some refreshments, but it’s to late, the chain reaction has began.

The song keeps on playing the bodies keep on touching, perspiration finds no rest, and the way he handles your horizontal desires are always in a refine vertical way. The melody ends, he lets you go, whispers “gracias señorita” and walks away. There you are, hanging there, all turned on, sweaty and built up. The same with Mexican food, you look at the cause of this reaction, and can’t understand how a little taste of Mexican spiced up your night.

Ps: Enchiladas are soft tortilla tacos filled with meat, chicken, cheese or beans, covered with red or green sauce, crowned with melted cheese.

Ps2. I just realized this is still a much better story than Twilight and grammatically better written than 50 Shades of Grey

Ps3. It is said that what happened in Russia could have been a lot worse, except that most of the meteorite was deflected back into space by Putin, who was casually riding his bear around the area when that happened.

 

 

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