slow motion for me

I officially have a crush on a local.

Let me backtrack for a minute.

About four nights ago, we were wandering around the city, as per our usual favorite nighttime activity, when we stumbled upon a large square packed with kids doing karate, riding bikes, etc. Each activity had its own little corner of the square, and right at the top of the stairs was a group of high school students breakdancing and popping and locking. The best guy was dressed head to toe in black (black baggy jeans, black T-shirt, silver chain, black bandana) and looked like the 14-year-old, Vietnamese version of the guy from Dirty Dancing Havana Nights (and the age description here is not the usual oh-Asians-always-look-younger-than-they-are comment; this kid was actually only 14). You know the cool kids in school that already had a bunch of groupies and that all the other kids wanted to dress like and talk like and be like? We were pretty sure these were Those Kids.

So we made friends.

Fast forward to the next day, and Johnny is back from hanging out with said Cool High School Kids to tell us about the Even Cooler High School Kids that he had met. Apparently, he had befriended the pop and lock champion of the city -- and said champion had agreed to give us lessons.

Which is why last night, Rosie, Johnny, Sam, and I found ourselves surrounded by some the sweetest pop and lock moves I've ever seen and some of the sickest outfits (one guy had on a doo-rag and another had on an outfit that I've definitely worn before -- tight black T-shirt, skinny grey jeans, black ankle boots, red and black checkered bandana), the music blasting from a bike that Rosie and I had chased a guy down to borrow and that was pimped out with speakers and lights. The second-in-command dancer was surprisingly cute.

And what can I say, I'm attracted to talent.