I danced. Oh yes did I dance. I danced until I could dance no more, which was unfortunately fairly quickly after I began. Last night I was invited to try out a CEROC dance workshop. For those not familiar with CEROC style of dancing, it is sort of a mix of tango and salsa set to rock music. I wore the wrong shoes. My Converses were not made for dancing. My cons were not made for comfort either, they’re just cool shoes. Cool shoes with slippery soles. I was trying my damndest to not kill my dance partners. This required much concentration towards what my feet were doing on the floor, and less concentration on the teacher attempting to show us how to dance.
“Ok everybody! Grab your partners right hand with your right hand, and feel free to smile at them, now swing! Now step annnnd swing annnnd step and TWIRL! Ok! Let that chemistry flow!”
Annnnd slip annnd fall! Ok! Slide! Slide! And TWIRL! Annnd drop your partner! There you go!
I didn’t drop anybody, but I did annoy a couple dance partners, one of which was a particularly grumpy Russian? Polish? In mother Russia, woman dances you! Speaking of dance partners, I hardly got a chance to dance with the person that invited me because the man to woman ratio was 4 – 1 and they rotated the women to new partners like livestock being herded to the slaughter. This was also a bummer for me because as soon as I got into a rhythm with someone, SWITCH! NEW PARTNER!
Crushes toes. Annnnd slide! Annnd slip!
Slippery shoes and rotating dance partners not withstanding, it was still lots of fun. Will repeat. Even if I get the grizzly old Aussie woman as a partner again. She rocked my world.