“Centro Storico” Angel said to the taxi driver.
The driver asked where we were going in the area and Angel said something like Mouse club.
The cab driver nodded and took off.
We arrived at the Club and paid €5 entry fee each.
As expected, the American boy would take care of the bills while the lady enjoyed every bit of it.
‘Lets go and dance” the voice sitting beside me said all of a sudden.
“Lets go and dance” Angel said as she stood up and grabbed my hand.
I haven’t danced for centuries; in fact, i don’t remember ever dancing anywhere including night clubs. I usually got my drink and sat at a corner and watched.
I attempted Salsa dance with a South American girl in Germany once but it was clear to me that i wasn’t created to dance.
Dancing were made for people who have nothing to worry about.
My brain box has always been filled with ideas, counter ideas, plans and such; not how to dance.
It was the reason why i never watched MTV or any music channel.
I preferred programmes and movies where people combined ideas to form a strategic plan.
While sitting and drinking with Angel, i was thinking on how to get my hands to her resident permit, not how to dance.
Before we entered the night club, Angel was told to keep her bag in the counters. It wasn’t allowed to enter the club with bags and Jackets. I had used that opportunity to put my two phones inside her bag, giving excuse that i wouldn’t want anyone to call me while inside the club.
Angel had tried to remind me that it was night and that nobody was going to call me. I on the other hand told her that it was day time in America and to my greatest surprise, Angel didn’t know that while it was night in Europe, there were some other continents where it was day time.
It was about this day and night at various continents we were drinking and discussing when she suddenly asked that we danced.
“I don’t know how to dance” I managed to say while she was pulling me up.
“Common, people are looking at us. Lets go and dance” she said.
I decided to give it a try. Nobody was going to beat me if i didn’t dance well.
“Lets do it” i eventually said as we held hands and found a free space on the dance floor.
The music was slow which made it easy for me to adapt to the beat quickly.
As we danced, i forgot why i was there with Angel, i forgot the mission and forgot all the troubles i had been going through.
It was good that i took my mind of the troubles for a period of time but the worst thing that could happen to anybody was to switch off his or her mind from the troubles.
He whose house is on fire does not chase the rats.
“I want to make a call baby, give me the ticket for your bag” I said while the dance was still on.
Angel handed me the single ticket that covered her bag and the phones in it.
I got to the counter and presented the ticket; then the caretaker handed me the bag.
I opened he zipper and searched through it.
There was a smaller ladies hand purse Inside the bag, i opened it and there it was; what i was searching for.
The Italian “Carta di Permesso di Soggiorno” was there.
I picked it out and grabbed my phones at the same time before i pulled my hand out of the bag.
I handed the bag back to the caretaker and took back our ticket, then returned to the floor where my Miss Angel was dancing with a white guy. The white guy was holding her small round waist which could have easily made me jealous but since i was there on a more important mission, i overlooked them.
I ignored and allowed them to dance while i sat on my chair and sipped my Pinacolada. The soft Music filtered through my ears while i watched them danced with a fixed smile on my face, trying to let Angel know that i didn’t care.
The white guys were very good at doing such things at night clubs; they usually ignored it when their women danced with other guys. As a matter of fact, some of them usually encouraged their women to go and have a dance with strange men while they watched. Their cultures were totally different and almost opposite of ours.
Whatever it was, i decided to employ the white mindset that night and allowed Angel to Dance. I already have what i wanted and she could dance with Lucifer for all i cared.
I even considered leaving the club without her but that would mean going to give her the ticket back which would surely raise suspicion.
It was 3am when the music suddenly stopped and people started going out; it was the end of the night club.
We walked up hand in hand to the major road where we stopped a taxi and directed the driver to a hotel.
Angel had insisted that we go to a particular hotel and i agreed.
“Police” The driver said while staring at his inner mirror.
“What?” I asked with my heart beating fast.
The driver explained that the police were following us.
He stopped on the road side and waited for the police car to pull up behind our vehicle.
My heart beat became faster as the Cops came out of their vehicle and came to our us.
The inner light of our vehicle was on.
I had allowed Angel to sit in the front while i stayed at the backseat in a bid to play the perfect gentleman and the respecter of women.
“Step out of the car please” One of the cops said to me.
I opened the door and got down.
“Passport please” he continued.
I composed my self, controlled my fast beating heart and brought out my resident permit card.
“You reside in France, what are you doing here?” He asked.
“Its a little bit warmer here, so i decided to come here and spend a week” I lied.
Angel who has been watching us opened her eyes wide when she discovered that i wasn’t an American afterall. I believed she must be thinking that i had some good explanations to make when everything was over but the following event changed everything.
The police, after checking my permit card, returned it to me and asked Angel to provide her own resident permit. Unfortunately for her, her card was there in my pocket.
What a tragedy for Angel.