DANCE WIT' THEM FATHERS

Sunday

17 June

12:20

About thirty men of various shapes and sizes were up front gettin’ their jig on and lovin’ it. I looked around at the happy faces in the buildin’ and it kinda made me happy that everybody was havin’ a good time watchin’ these grown ass men throw caution to the wind.

I was somewhere in a front row seat crackin’ up. I was lovin’ every moment these men spent up there makin’ a fool of themselves (in a good way) and to top it all off, I was watchin’ it all go down ringside style. It kinda felt like havin’ an untrammeled sight of Iron Mike Tyson kick butt in his heydays.

30 Minutes Earlier

It was a cool day, about 18 degrees on the thermometer; it was jus like the weather people on France24 predicated the night before. I was somewhere in the back, sittin’ wit’ my legs crossed and half lost in thought, floatin’ between  slightly dirty thoughts and the good songs bein’ belted by the choir.

I was enjoyin’ my lil’ head-trip but that was until the pastor grabbed the mic from the cat leadin’ the praise and worship and put a dent in my reverie. Huh, how did he do that? He said all the men in the buildin’ should get off of their seats wherever they were and go take the front seats. It’s a well known fact 90% of the average church goin’ men avoid sittin’ in front like they gon’ contract some kinda incurable diseases out there.

Soon as the announcement came through, I’d made up my mind I wasn’t goin’ to move. Nothin’ those pesky ushers gon say would make me budge, matter of fact, it’d take a thousand strong men to unglue me from where I was perched. My resolve was strengthen when I looked around and found that all the other men were lookin’ around too, jus like me. It was a collective resolve!

Well, what I’d thought to be a collective resolve turned out to be nothin’ more than a mere hesitation, I was fuckin’ disappointed when one by one, these grown ass men grudgingly carry their bibles and made their ways to the front. I tried, men.

I stood my ground until I began to stick out like a sore thumb. I mean, what’s a brotha to do, huh? It was beginnin’ to look like I was lettin’ the devil use me. I reluctantly took my pocket bible (and nope, it wasn’t a New Testament only kinda bible like y’all are thinkin’, the whole enchilada was there) and got my ass to a front seat somewhere.

11:52

As I was beginnin’ to get used to sittin’ in front, the pastor threw another loop, he wanted all the fathers (single fathers or not) to get their asses off their seats and come to the stage! I looked around and I could swear some of these niggas were mutterin’ fuck fuck under their breaths.

The women, the wives and the young ladies were enjoyin’ the “humiliation” of their men. They were hysterical wit laughter. Ah ha! I allowed myself a wide smile but my smile froze when the pastor held up his hand, signallin’ the congregation to calm down.  I knew that nigga was about to throw another surprise and guess what? He did! He said those who were forty should come join the fathers. I didn’t qualify for any of the above. I sat tight and heaved a sigh of relieve.

11:58

As soon as the men assembled out-front, the pastor told them to fan out and give themselves elbow room; they were about to get their two-steps on whether they know how to dance or not. The congregation erupted wit laughter. I was thinkin’ to myself, if church were this fun and not jus about the fire and brimstone and doomsday rhetoric alotta pastors throw around, a lot more folks would look forward to gettin’ their church on but that’s not possible, is it? Of course, it isn’t.

Anyways, the band struck an up tempo tune hopin’ to whip these fathers up into some kind of frenzy but alas, the best they got out of these men were reluctant zombie-like shuffle. The women loved it all the same.

30 Minutes Later

Niggas began to warm up to the music and little by little, cats began to get rid of their inhibition. As their am-too-grown-for-this-kinda-gig attitude melted away, some of ‘em took off their oversized suits, tied it around their michellin man’s waist and got low wit! Niggas were doin’ all kinda of out of date 80s shuffle, throwin’ their hands in the air like John Travolta did in Saturday Night Fever. The church was in frenzy! I was afraid more than a few of these unfit men might cop themselves a heart attack.

Outro

What! Out of nowhere, as if they planned it, wives began to appear on stage, shakin’ their asses and shit. From my ringside seat, all I could see for the next ten minutes were different typa asses and my thought began to get dirty. Good lawd!

Correct me if am wrong, but why is it that the ladies always want to take shine off the men once they see a nigga get a lil’ attention in the spot light without them, huh? It’s Fathers’ Day for Pete’s sake but why did these ladies have to go and bum rush stage!

This One’s For The Fathers Who Are Mothers…