Picture this: a giant pineapple, some live Jazz music, Salsa dancing, and a couple of Europeans; Alex from Spain and Anna from Sweden.
I was out sipping an incredibly overpriced Mojito, (if I paid $15 for one damn drink, you know I’m gonna maximize the evening), at a quaint Cuban lounge called Ball & Chain in Miami when the world stopped for a few moments so I could appreciate every little thing the night had to offer.
Let me backtrack for a second.
This was my first time in Miami, and although I wasn’t solo, Damon and I split up at night after we we were done exploring to do our own things. Let’s face it, going “Kale hunting” isn’t exactly my go-to activity when traveling, and finding the best live Salsa music to bailar isn’t his. After five years of traveling together we’ve acknowledged that it’s critical to “do you” every now and then.
I spared no moment doin’ me during this Miami trip. On our last night, Thirsty Thurzzz, I made it a goal to dance and mingle with strangers in Mr. 305’s favorite street: Calle Ocho in Little Havana.
Despite preaching the whole “Going Out Solo” concept, I admit that I haven’t done the most adventurous things on my own in the last few months. After moving to LA, I got too excited with having my own room for the first time in legitimately 10 years. Confession: I consider snuggling up with a teddy bear in bed on weekends and watching Spongebob the best time ever, *doing that exact activity right this minute.*
But, since I didn’t pack Jiggly, my beloved teddy bear, I challenged myself to be a big girl and strut out the door into the mystery of Miami. And come on, when will I ever have the opportunity to Salsa dance as close to Cuba as you can get without leaving U.S. soil? Exactly, never. I put on strappy Salsa-proof wedges, and the most Rico Suave looking shirt I owned. I flung my purse on my shoulders and felt a tingle of confidence, empowerment and even nervousness for my “Me date in Miami.” The only difference between this and a date with someone else is that I knew the evening wouldn’t end with the sour taste of crappy conversation, or an awkward attempt of a kiss Goodnight.
I know how to treat myself right.