Occasionally, I like to stray away from the pack -- do something on my own without hooking up with my friends. Sometimes I just have to get away from doing the stuff that everyone else wants to do and do what I want to do. Maybe that makes me selfish or a loner, I don't know.
Anyway, last night the task was swing dancing lessons. A few weeks ago, I heard this club was hosting the lessons/party, so I bought a ticket. I figured it was something to do on V-Day other than sitting at home and twiddling my thumbs. And it's not like it was February 2004, when I celebrated 'Single Awareness Day' with a bunch of girlfriends getting massages and watching Sex and the City. (Remember that, Motown Runner Girl?)
Initially, I thought the lessons were a bad idea. The crowd was kind of sketchy. The male and female teachers seemed pretty nice, but everyone else was coupled off. I was the only person who arrived alone and I feared being paired off with the teacher the entire night. I was standing at the bar when I noticed a man -- whom I thought had special needs -- plop down on my coat as he searched through his pockets. I immediately wished I stayed home to watch Lost.
But things picked up. They arranged us so everyone had a partner and everyone danced with everyone. I learned a few moves with a couple of guys who seemed to be learning this for the first time, much like myself. I got the hang of it alright, but it got a little confusing when it came to the spins. I've been told before that my biggest problem with dancing is that I don't trust the man to lead. Hmmmm. That says alot, doesn't it? One guy, Bill, seemed to struggle to learn the initial steps, but he got them.
Then they broke out the band and it was a free for all. Bill asked me to dance and I accepted. I didn't expect much, especially since he seemed to be screwing up in the practice session. Well, Bill's a liar. To say he knew the moves is an understatement. He shook and swung and spun me into a dizzying frenzy. Then Special Ed -- dude that sat on my coat -- asked me to dance and the same thing happened. Special Ed was not special and was actually the best male dancer in the room. These dudes were perpetrating a fraud! They were undercover swingers. Pretending that they couldn't dance and then they raised the roof.
Overall, I had a great time. I checked out the flier for the swing dance teachers and I'm considering taking some additional classes. But we'll see.
Anyway, last night the task was swing dancing lessons. A few weeks ago, I heard this club was hosting the lessons/party, so I bought a ticket. I figured it was something to do on V-Day other than sitting at home and twiddling my thumbs. And it's not like it was February 2004, when I celebrated 'Single Awareness Day' with a bunch of girlfriends getting massages and watching Sex and the City. (Remember that, Motown Runner Girl?)
Initially, I thought the lessons were a bad idea. The crowd was kind of sketchy. The male and female teachers seemed pretty nice, but everyone else was coupled off. I was the only person who arrived alone and I feared being paired off with the teacher the entire night. I was standing at the bar when I noticed a man -- whom I thought had special needs -- plop down on my coat as he searched through his pockets. I immediately wished I stayed home to watch Lost.
But things picked up. They arranged us so everyone had a partner and everyone danced with everyone. I learned a few moves with a couple of guys who seemed to be learning this for the first time, much like myself. I got the hang of it alright, but it got a little confusing when it came to the spins. I've been told before that my biggest problem with dancing is that I don't trust the man to lead. Hmmmm. That says alot, doesn't it? One guy, Bill, seemed to struggle to learn the initial steps, but he got them.
Then they broke out the band and it was a free for all. Bill asked me to dance and I accepted. I didn't expect much, especially since he seemed to be screwing up in the practice session. Well, Bill's a liar. To say he knew the moves is an understatement. He shook and swung and spun me into a dizzying frenzy. Then Special Ed -- dude that sat on my coat -- asked me to dance and the same thing happened. Special Ed was not special and was actually the best male dancer in the room. These dudes were perpetrating a fraud! They were undercover swingers. Pretending that they couldn't dance and then they raised the roof.
Overall, I had a great time. I checked out the flier for the swing dance teachers and I'm considering taking some additional classes. But we'll see.
2 comments:
hi there, happy belated first anniversary. you have a GREAT blog!
Thanks Liz and welcome!!
Mlle Smith -- Yes, I'm learning that dancing can be somewhat metaphoric to relationships. Who knew? =)
Post a Comment