Live Uncomfortably

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I was in a big club in Cali, Colombia named Mangos. I had come with a big group from the hostel. The club wasn’t very full that night so we were able to get a table right next to the dance floor.

I’m a pretty terrible dancer but in Colombia I had taken a liking to salsa. I like mostly that it’s a very interactive dance so you can just grab a girl, pull her on the dance floor and go for it. I liked to try to get the girls laughing by spinning them because it took the focus off of my bad footwork.

The whole group of hostel people was having fun, drinking some rum out small bottles, and dancing. Eventually, a group of three Colombians, two girls and a guy, entered the club and sat next to us. One of the girls was bubbly and had very large breasts. I note her breast size because in Cali, it seems like fake boobs are a requirement.

The best thing about Colombia is that a girl like this will open you up and start chatting. So that’s what she did. Turned out she was born in Cali, lived in Miami for 10 years, and now she was back.

I talked with her for awhile before asking her to dance. It was clear from the beginning that she was the aggressor in our relationship so she tried without much luck to show me some dance moves.

We returned to the table and I began talking to the other girl. She was beautiful as well, and very drunk. When she stood up she could hardly walk with the giant heels she had on.

I didn’t think much of situation. I was chatting to these girls having a fun time. But the guy they were with felt a little differently. He was very angry at me, and also very drunk.

He got in my face and told me to leave his girlfriend - the drunk one - alone. “Yeah no problem,” I thought. I focused my attention back to the aggressive big boobed girl. But it wasn’t long before the guy was upset again.

This time he walked to the table of my hostel friends and stole a bottle of nearly full rum. I protested and told a friend we had, who was from Colombia, what the situation was. He chased after the guy and brought our rum back. He turned to me said, “I wouldn’t talk to those girls anymore. He is very upset.”

I agreed that it was probably best. I steered away from the table and went back to the dance-floor. But when I returned, the drunk girlfriend started chatting me up again. I tried my best to stop the conversation and exit. It was too late.

The angry boyfriend started making his way towards me. My Colombian friend stepped in and stopped him. The boyfriend then pushed my friend throwing him backwards. In big clubs like these there are always bouncers patrolling the dance floor so they pounced on the boyfriend in a flash.

The bouncers escorted him to the door and his girlfriend cried and chased after them. The big boobed girl then came back to me apologizing for how drunk he was.

That was the first time I felt my life was threatened in Colombia. The second time would come only a few days later.

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photo by Marplar