Arre, arre!
Boy and Meche had finally arrived at the dance in El Chuco they’d been planning to go to for weeks. It took a long trip from the Southside and a few basiladas along the way to get there, pero anyway they were there. And the bule looked de aquellas.
It was Boy’s first time in the dancehall. Meche had been there before but didn’t remember until they were inside.
“Now that I’m inside, I remember I came here for a wedding not that long ago—maybe only a few years,” she said to Boy.
“You have raza here?” Boy asked her.
“Simón. Two brothers, and some primos,” said Meche.
“They tried to set me up with some sonso. He didn’t have any tórica, and my daughter didn’t like him. So I didn’t dance all night. Next day I learned from my carnales who introduced me to that vato that it was all a prank.”
Boy shrugged.
“My tórica’s OK?” Boy said playfully.
“Sokay. The test is gonna be your zangoloteo,” Meche said.
“Pos I wonder if they’re gonna start with a marcha, like old times,” said Boy.
“Eeee, don’t rub it in that you’re old times. When I started going to the dances, no more old times,” Meche said.
“Then you started late. I’m not a full year older, and I remember they always started with marchas…,” Boy said.
Boy wasn’t able to say more before a man came up to them and greeted Meche.
“Hey, esa, remember me? We danced her last year,” said the man, a tall, freckled redhead.
“Chale. I never danced here. Must’ve been another ruca,” Meche said.
To Boy, the vato seemed to be between sonso and menso. Slight and in a nylon suit that fit a size too big, he seemed unlikely to attract a dancing partner that night.
“Chale. I was introduced to you by your carnales,” the man said.
Meche contemplated the man.
“Oh, I remember now. Gatcho carnales were playing a joke on me. We talked a little. I went home early. You remember that?” Meche said.
“Nel. Thought we danced a little,” the man said glancing at Boy.
“Hmmm. Pos this is my boyfriend. We came here to dance together,” Meche said.
The man ignored what she’d said and kept looking at her.
Boy grew annoyed and waited for an opening.
“I remember you danced de aquellas,” the man said.
“Then you don’t, ese,” Meche said.
The man was going to respond, but before he uttered another word, Meche cut him off.
“Arre! Arre!” she said, waving at him dismissively.
The sudden command and harsh movement startled him.
“Arre!” Meche said again and drove the man away into the crowd.
This story was made possible by generous donations from supporters like you. Please consider showing your support with a contribution today.
