Bailar: bailo, bailas, baila, bailamos, bailan.

Or it could just as easily be called, Dirty Dancing, Stamford Nights.

Some time ago, Arlo, Flaco, and Sherb decided to hit the streets of Stamford, CT. Why go to Stamford? The open bar and free food special at the Thirsty Turtle, of course. For better or worse, the trio, failed to take advantage of the numerous food platters and stuck close to the open bar. A few Kettle One and Tonics later (sadly no straight alcohol drinks) and Sherb was rockin’ ‘n’ rollin’ out on the dance floor. When Flaco suggested a change of venue to the more swanky Cafe Madrid, a Latin dancing lounge, Sherb was primed and ready to go.

Now if there is one thing Sherb learned that night, it is that his skinny ass can’t go out without wearing a belt. Allow me explain. Upon walking in to this upscale establishment, Arlo and Sherb manage to catch the bouncer’s ire by wearing Chucks. Sherb also managed a second strike in being a gringo who can’t dance but that has never stopped the boy before.

Arlo, Flaco and his lady friends wandered over to the bar while Sherb headed directly out onto the dark and mostly empty dance floor. His arms raised as if he was Tangoing with someone, Sherb did circles around the few couples that were there. Two, three, four laps and Sherb came in for a pit stop at the bar. After grabbing a Kettle One rocks with a twist of lime and getting a few encouraging words from Flaco, he was off again, this time Tangoing with his drink. That’s when he first noticed in the darkness, an entire other half of the lounge complete with bar. Being inquisitive he used his Sherbtastic powers to jump up the single step into the darkened room. Upon noticing this area was closed for the evening he spun around a pillar and jumped off the step back onto the dance floor. That’s when it happened.

The force of the landing caused Sherb’s beltless jeans to slide down his legs exposing his colorful boxers. Hardly embarrassed, he hiked them up thinking nobody had noticed and continued with his far from graceful dance routine. However, one person did notice, the bouncer who came over and issued a stern warning. Unphased, Sherb continued with his gyrations paying no mind to the belt situation. Returning to the bar, he explained his predicament and demonstrated his loose fitting pants to the others. After a few more sips of his Kettle One and some mumbled words he was off for the adjacent darkened corner.

It wasn’t long before his next bout of dance moves shook his pants loose again. Down they went. No sooner did he get them up than the rather large and imposing bouncer was on his way over for a second and what would surely be a final time. Grabbed by the scruff of his neck, Sherb, tried in vein to walk out on his own two feet. Unfortunately, he was lifted, certainly not by his belt, a few inches above the ground to the point where his toes delicately danced across the ground in a failed attempt to gain a traction and slow his exit. As he proceeded past Arlo and Flaco at the bar, Sherb turned to the bouncer and in a friendly voice asked, “Oh, we’re leaving now?”

Out the front door and into the rain they went but that wasn’t far enough for the bouncer. He made a sharp left and marched Sherb, who was still trying to hit the breaks as if he was riding a pair of Rollerblades, down several store fronts. Realizing he had gone far enough for Sherb to get the point, he dumped him down on the sidewalk. Depressed, amused and anything but ashamed, Sherb had broken out into a fit of laughter and tears. Fortunately, Arlo had noticed the quick and quiet departure of Sherb and chased after him. Finding his huddled mass in the doorway Arlo sternly commanded Sherb to, “Stay right here!” Arlo gathered the troops, then collected Sherb off the stoop and that was pretty much the end of the evening.