Small inside joke with this song, but still a good way to go into the weekend.

Oh yes, the weekend.  In Younger Malik’s days, quite a few Friday and Saturday nights were spent in various salsa spots around the City of Angels.  And almost every one of those nights went like this:

11:00 PM: Malik and the homies walk into the spot.  We were low key types by nature, but we still case the joint to make sure no knuckleheads see us and decide they want to make a name for themselves…

11:15 PM: Malik posts up in one of his normal spots.  Either a) one of the homies who posts up under the DJ table to bob his head to every song and be an unpaid hypeman for the night, or b) on the corner of the dance floor to get a feel for the floor itself.

11: 30 PM: By this time, Malik has caught the general rhythms of whatever the DJ is throwing out, he’s doing a little dancing.  Nothing to showy, but enough to make sure all the ladies on the dance floor, right outside the dance floor, or sitting at a table near the dance floor knows I’m a little more than ambiance.  I can get out there and not be the drunk fool who is not nowhere near as good of a dancer as he thinks he is.

11:45 PM: Start scoping the scene to find my homie who has been doing his own recon work.  Along the way of course, casually seeing if anyone is looking. And more often than not (humblebrag), I’d catch a few Vanessa Bryant/Jessica Alba clones showing 32 teeth a piece, being impressed the little black guy knows how to swivel his hips to the beat.  I’d smile back so they know I saw them.

12:00 PM: Find the homie. ‘Yeah, keep next year open.  I just fell in love.’

And on that note, have a good weekend!