Salsa or Cumbia?

Last weekend the salsa came into my bar with the beautiful Croatian I had met so long ago. I awoke still inticucated from the night before. We all know I've made plans for a bartendress. Seeing as the salsa herself was just that at a gentlemens night club made this all so intriguing. There's always those little kitties at work meowing so loud. They're so cute. This one Lady Erin. Wow. Tall drink of h20. I believe I was on the tipsy side when we finally got to her. I mean she's all the way in the back bar. Ooh sparkly things! Anywho, we finally get there to find my poor sick bartendress. Cloaked in a hoodie, and darling that ass. Oh my, that ass. It makes me weak just to think of it. You see it's how I was first introduced to the lass. Noticed the fair maiden. Tall. Sigh. Dark. More sigh. That ass! C'mon man! I digress, but she's a brick house. I stayed. I played. My kind boss sent me home in a car when I had too much. I wsometimes I stumble. I awoke with the worst feeling, did I make a complete ass of myself in front of the salsa? I got word from the boss man and he said my Cumbia was fine.   Apparently she told him to thank me for coming. It felt good. So apparently the adventure continues. I guess the road goes on forever, and the party never ends. Oh yeah, this is her. ;)