This is the last essay I have left. Take a look at it and I will be happy to take a look at any of your threads. Thanks!
Title: This Is Not a Love Story
It was nine o'clock on a Saturday night and I was suited up in a white cowboy hat, a maroon and beige plaid shirt, black wrangler jeans, and black lizard skin cowboy boots. I was at my friend Juan's house, waiting for his friend Jaime to arrive. Juan, Jaime, and I were about to go to a Norteńa dance club. Among the three of us, I was the only one who had never been to a club. I was also the only one who had not been brought up under the influence of Mexican culture. Although I knew that I would feel somewhat out of place, I decided to go because I was curious about entering an environment that seemed so foreign to me. I had no intention of finding a girl who would change my perspective and approach to new people and experiences. I just wanted to see what the place was like.
After a short wait and a car-ride, we arrived at the club. As I expected, I found myself immersed in something completely new to me. Although my mother is from Nicaragua and I speak Spanish, all the music was unfamiliar to me and the dances were a far cry from those I had been exposed to at school events like homecoming and prom. I wanted to get on the dance-floor and start dancing, but I lacked the confidence to do so because I had no idea how to dance like everyone else was. So instead I talked to Juan and Jaime for a few minutes. After a while, it became obvious that both of them wanted to find some girls and start dancing; I was holding them back. Though I did not want to keep them from having a good time, I also had no intention of stepping onto the dance floor, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom, telling them that I would find them when I was done.
As I expected, they were on the dance floor by the time I exited the crowded restroom. Moving to the beat of the loud Cumbia song that playing, Juan spotted me and called me over. It seemed that I was going to be dancing after all. Very reluctantly, I walked over to him. "Go ask that girl to dance," he told me as his eyes moved towards the girl next to the girl with whom he was dancing.
As I gathered the courage to ask her to dance, I kept thinking of negative outcomes. Maybe she'd just say "No." Maybe she'd maniacally laugh in my face. Maybe she'd say yes, only to walk away from me in mid-dance, telling me "You suck this."
Ultimately, however, I manned up and introduced myself to the girl, whose name was Gabi, and asked her if she'd like to dance. To my relief, she said yes. It was really fun. She laughed a bit as we got started, but she also gave me useful feedback on my Latin rhythm skills. "You're getting better at this," she'd tell me. Gabi was a great dance partner: she was kind, patient, and nothing like the scary person I kept envisioning before I introduced myself to her. By the time Juan, Jaime, and I left the club, I was proficient in dancing to Norteńa and Cumbia songs.
Though I haven't seen Gabi since the night I met her, she is a person of influence to me because she helped me get over my fear of rejection by simply saying "Yes." Dancing with her made me realize how ridiculous it was of me to allow this fear to control me. I am no longer too bashful ask questions I want to ask, to talk to people I don't know very well, or to ask a girl to dance. Thanks to Gabi, I am able to go outside of my comfort zone and actively engage in new things.
Title: This Is Not a Love Story
It was nine o'clock on a Saturday night and I was suited up in a white cowboy hat, a maroon and beige plaid shirt, black wrangler jeans, and black lizard skin cowboy boots. I was at my friend Juan's house, waiting for his friend Jaime to arrive. Juan, Jaime, and I were about to go to a Norteńa dance club. Among the three of us, I was the only one who had never been to a club. I was also the only one who had not been brought up under the influence of Mexican culture. Although I knew that I would feel somewhat out of place, I decided to go because I was curious about entering an environment that seemed so foreign to me. I had no intention of finding a girl who would change my perspective and approach to new people and experiences. I just wanted to see what the place was like.
After a short wait and a car-ride, we arrived at the club. As I expected, I found myself immersed in something completely new to me. Although my mother is from Nicaragua and I speak Spanish, all the music was unfamiliar to me and the dances were a far cry from those I had been exposed to at school events like homecoming and prom. I wanted to get on the dance-floor and start dancing, but I lacked the confidence to do so because I had no idea how to dance like everyone else was. So instead I talked to Juan and Jaime for a few minutes. After a while, it became obvious that both of them wanted to find some girls and start dancing; I was holding them back. Though I did not want to keep them from having a good time, I also had no intention of stepping onto the dance floor, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom, telling them that I would find them when I was done.
As I expected, they were on the dance floor by the time I exited the crowded restroom. Moving to the beat of the loud Cumbia song that playing, Juan spotted me and called me over. It seemed that I was going to be dancing after all. Very reluctantly, I walked over to him. "Go ask that girl to dance," he told me as his eyes moved towards the girl next to the girl with whom he was dancing.
As I gathered the courage to ask her to dance, I kept thinking of negative outcomes. Maybe she'd just say "No." Maybe she'd maniacally laugh in my face. Maybe she'd say yes, only to walk away from me in mid-dance, telling me "You suck this."
Ultimately, however, I manned up and introduced myself to the girl, whose name was Gabi, and asked her if she'd like to dance. To my relief, she said yes. It was really fun. She laughed a bit as we got started, but she also gave me useful feedback on my Latin rhythm skills. "You're getting better at this," she'd tell me. Gabi was a great dance partner: she was kind, patient, and nothing like the scary person I kept envisioning before I introduced myself to her. By the time Juan, Jaime, and I left the club, I was proficient in dancing to Norteńa and Cumbia songs.
Though I haven't seen Gabi since the night I met her, she is a person of influence to me because she helped me get over my fear of rejection by simply saying "Yes." Dancing with her made me realize how ridiculous it was of me to allow this fear to control me. I am no longer too bashful ask questions I want to ask, to talk to people I don't know very well, or to ask a girl to dance. Thanks to Gabi, I am able to go outside of my comfort zone and actively engage in new things.