Not Quite Dirty Dancing

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Ballroom Dancing. I haven’t quite gone over this subject of my life for this blog yet, so if you have never taken a dance class, you can learn a little here. Be aware that it will not help you dance or inform you of actual dance steps. When I decided to take this class I didn’t think about the fact that I wouldn’t want to be close and hold somebody for 50 minutes straight twice a week. I knew it wouldn’t be anything like the movies. There would not be happy Baltimore rats dancing around our feet like in Hairspray, or janitors who just want to lift us up because it looks funner than changing a light bulb like in Step Up. And don’t even think that there will be a Patrick Swayze type because everyone in this class are beginners not resort performers.

One good thing about this class is that we don’t wear shoes. I’m very thankful for that when the guy can’t keep time and keeps stepping on my toes. This was the case during my latest class. I didn’t think I would be picking one of the less suitable dance partners, but then that’s not really what I’m thinking when the teacher says it’s ladies choice. I think, “Oh no! I better grab a guy quick so I don’t end up dancing with one of those timid girls that are usually left overs.” Dancing with one of the left overs is like deciding what color of socks to wear when you won’t be taking off your shoes. It doesn’t really matter, but what if? With one of the left overs you have to decided who will lead. It usually depends on height or which one of you cares the least about being the leader. When I have been stuck with one of the left overs, the teacher sees how much we’re floundering and switches up the couples. It’s quite a relief because she always puts me with someone good.

There are a few guys that I really enjoy dancing with because they are pretty good, but a couple of them are just kinda hot. Quamay (way off with the spelling on that name) is just such a guy. His well, muscled arms and chest are enough to keep me occupied while we dance around the floor. Richie is also a lovely dance partner. I would like to have him for all my dance tests; but alas, many of the girls ask him. That almost became a problem during our first test. He had to dance in 3 of the 4 sets of tests.

The kind of guys that are annoying to dance with are the ones that can’t keep time. Who think they are doing something right and they’re not but they won’t shut up to let you tell them. Who think they are always right and keep trying to tell you how to do something that you already know how to do. Who keep telling you that you’re tense or thinking too much when actually you are not tense and you’re mind is a blank with daydreams about wanting to dance with someone else. The worst of all of these is the guy who can dance good enough that you don’t mind dancing with him, but he is just short enough that his breath line is in your face and he didn’t brush his teeth that day.

I can only hope that this class will pay off and I’ll be able to live out my fantasy of dancing around a beautiful caste ballroom in a glistening yellow dress with a hairy beast in a suit while the teapot sings and the music swells. I might have to move to France though…