Hula Hoop of Pleasure
Last night, I was walking home after a terrific show at the Crocodile, collar turned up against the rain. I was walking by myself through the city at midnight on a Wednesday night with my head full of music and drums and costumes. Feeling a little winded and damp, I turned a corner and found something that made me forget my physical discomfort. There, under a streetlight, leaning against a garbage can, was a giant yellow and black hula hoop with sparkles. It twinkled at me seductively and I ran toward it, triggering the motion sensor floodlights on the building to my right. I ran my hands along its perimeter, inspected its decorations, felt its considerable weight. Then I tried it out, swinging my hips, arms in the air, I was the center of the moving circle with light pouring at me from both sides.
I hula-hooped home, singing little songs. It was a good, good night.