May. 22nd, 2006 11:55 am
sernin: (ballroom)
On Saturday evening, a conspirator and I went to the Ballroom Showcase 2006: Dancing with the Stars!

sernin: (Default)
W and I went to the Ballroom Company on Friday evening. According to the sign on the door, "Latin Dance Party" is on the third Friday of the month. We saw Tim the instructor/dj carrying in drinks. We sat in my car until more people arrived. I made a snarky comment to W that if there was a wall of full-length mirrors, we were leaving. We went into the space, and lo and behold, mirrors. And bad poster art framed on the wall. And bad lighting hanging from the ceiling. Immediately I'm envisioning the kind of low budget movies that one can not watch on ABC Family.

We learned to Cha-Cha. I had a dedicated partner (Andrew, who was fluent in Spanish). W had to dance with a bad dancer (and I forget his name). When the lesson was over, David showed up. She practiced the cha-cha with him before the dance party started. First dance was Rumba, and Andrew asked me to dance. Neither of us were very good, but at least I didn't fall down.

Next week: back to BLS with another cha-cha lesson and Tim as the DJ.
sernin: (ballroom)
For four weeks (Mondays, Jan 16 to Feb 6), my little dance class has been learning the basic steps of the Foxtrot, Waltz, Rumba, and Tango. For the fifth class (Mon, Feb 13), no new steps were introduced, we were just able to practice all that we had learned. For The Big Dance, the music wouldn't stop and start as it did during the weeks of class. Instead, we got complete songs, and the latitude to do any of the steps we had learned.

Of course, eventually, someone would almost kill their partner in frustration and we would end up back in "class mode".
How lucky that I took my camera and have photos.

The rest of class was fine.  I've mastered the Tango Butterfly move and the Waltz double-chasse'.  I may even be able to bluff my way through an Open Fan in the Rumba.  As for Guy... well... some things are just not meant to last forever.

pictures )
sernin: (Default)
First, I have to state that I've never had worse wait service at a restaurant than I had on the evening of my fourth ballroom dancing class. It was so bad, that despite my ordering an appetizer and diet Coke, it took 1.5 hours to get in, get food, get ticket, and get out. Due to the horrible service, I was late for dance class. By the time I entered the ballroom, I saw Guy dancing with the girl in the black shirt.

I also saw a little doggie bed in the middle of the room, complete with little yorkie terrier. Snickers hopped out of the bed to come greet me, the latecomer. When Snickers lost interest, or realized that I had no jerky bits in my pockets, he returned to the little bed. I have no idea why there's a dog in ballroom dance class.

I walked to the front of the room and sat on the theater stage, letting my body cool down from rushing. I watched the class foxtrot around the room, trying not to focus my stare too much on Guy and black shirt girl. After a song or two, the class split to the sides, and I realize that the Demonstration Lady is not in attendance. There's a young woman in very high heels in the middle of the room with Johnny. She's the Substitute (SDL).

We watch as Johnny and SDL do the familiar WALTZ moves. We see that these two haven't been dancing together for 35 years. SDL wasn't acutely aware of his footwork a fancy. Twice, they bumped into each other. Once they were sorted out and waltzing, we were given the big arm swing to find our partners.

So. Do I make a straight line for Guy, or do I wait? Do I stroll boldly across the room, or respect his partnering with black shirt girl?

Well, I'm a big chicken, so I just wait to see what was going to happen. Guy walks over to the black shirt girl, and I can feel a big stone just lodge itself in my stomach. Then I develop super-hearing power, and hear Guy tell black shirt girl, "Thank you for dancing with me so far, but my partner has arrived." Uh-huh. He left her there, walked over to me, and made some comment about my tardiness. I think I mumbled something about work or traffic or something. It didn't matter. I said, "Are you sure? It's my fault that I'm late. You could dance with her." He said something like, "No, I'm glad you're here." Then we waltzed, amazingly. We were even able to do the new WALTZ step of the week: Double Chasse. I've figured out that I'm a _MUCH_ better dancer when I just look at his chest, and not his glasses. While looking at his chest, I have a better feel of which direction he wants to go. We're not exactly Fred and Ginger (is that right?) but we're better than we've been in weeks. However, nothing lasts forever, and soon we are lined up for RUMBA.

There's nothing much exciting about RUMBA dancing this week. Guy still wants to step forward on the first step, as if we're doing FOXTROT or WALTZ. I show him that that crazy cuban hip action wants him to shimmy his stuff to one side before he steps forward. If it were my econ class, I'd be there doing something creative to make it concrete, but I'M A BIG CHICKEN. He seems to grasp the thought without my grabbing any of his pieces or parts. We RUMBA. We're pretty good, once we go sideways first. We've figured out that twinkles and fallaway breaks are pretty much the same move, just started in opposite directions. We can even do the BIG DANCING CIRCLE with our arms out while stepping backward. Snickers even came over to approve of the great dancing circle.

Soon it's time for a water/air break. As cool as it is outside, that ballroom gets hot quickly when you've got cuban hip motion going on. I head over to the cold water fountain (as opposed to the lukewarm water fountain) for a refreshing drink, and open the door for some cool air. I can't actually _go_ outside, because I'm wearing my fancy dance shoes. Stepping out on the concrete would be very sad for the shoes, since they're made for gliding/scooting across wood floors. Explaining all of this to strangers who are leaving the YWCA is tiresome. I almost want to tell them that there are alligators outside. They'd give me the same look, but it would be much more fun to say.

We're called back to the ballroom to do the TANGO. We have trouble with the Butterfly move. I finally have to ask Guy to stop holding my hands and allow me to just do the footwork while looking at my feet. There's a pivot that I have difficulty doing. I have to be close enough to him, but still be able to swing the left side of my body between us on the final step. Tricky. We're getting better through just footwork, and somehow within the next 30 seconds, Guy goes flying across the floor. I'm feeling awful, and he's really embarrassed. Snickers is investigating. Guy thought that I was ready to do the steps for real, and the fact that he had my hand may have been the only reason he didn't break his nose as he fell to the floor. Um. Yeah. I think he forgave me by the end of the class. I can clearly state that communication between dance partners is crucial. We didn't work through that step anymore. Plain TANGO would just have to do.

Last, but not least....

Johnny was kind enough to provide a "cheat sheet" of all the steps that we have learned in the past four weeks. Of course, the sheet does no good if you're trying to remember what any particular step looks like, but at least I can point and say, "I know how to do all of this!"

Lesson 5: The Big Dance

dance steps
dance steps

sernin: (Default)
I'm exactly on time for class this week, with just enough time to say hello to a few women before we line up. I'm quite nervous, for Guy hasn't shown up yet. I don't think I'm mature enough (especially after last week) to dance with Ford v.2. Johnny has a new boombox, and it actually has a cd player. The room had this gravitational pull to it as we whooshed from 1986 to the mid-90's. It seems as though we get to dance to more than the four songs we've heard the last two weeks: Somewhere Over the Rainbox (FOXTROT), Rainbow Connection (WALTZ), Latin Dance #1 (RUMBA), and LATIN Dance #2 (TANGO). From what I can see, the homemade cd cover says "Foxtrot #1 - #4" I think that the pile of cds probably mean that we have several songs for each dance. Johnny trusts us to move beyond Muppets and Judy Garland.

As we're lined up, we watch as Johnny and the DL lady quickly FOXTROT, corner, sideaway, and TWINKLE. He waves his arm at us, and we figure this is the international dance signal to start dancing. I panic, and just as I start into Real Despair, in walks Guy. He's wearing glasses. Ok, I have a minor GeekBoy attraction.

When we meet in the middle of the dance floor, I comment on the glasses, or at least I try to convey in non-garbled English how much I like the glasses. He asks, "Dressed up?" I look down at my peach shirt, black pants, and black shoes, and say "came here from work." When we attempt to FOXTROT (to real music!) I can't remember what to do with my feet. Nothing. Back? Right? One step? Two? Um. Glasses. Yeah. I don't know how to FOXTROT. I apologize profusely. "I've had a long day at work. I'm really tired. I'm so sorry." Oddly enough, he can't remember how to FOXTROT either. Or maybe he's just being polite. (Dare I hope for polite babies?) We find Johnny to remedy the situation. Johnny FOXTROTS with me a few times. Guy leads me around, FOXTROTTING. We know not to push our luck with TWINKLES yet.

We separate into lines, and watch as Johnny and DL add in all the fancy moves, the TWINKLES, the fallaway breaks, the underarm twirls, and so on. Guy and I attempt to do some of these as we meet up again. Sadly, we're both not in the FOXTROT groove and it's not at all elegant nor graceful.

When Johnny and DL split us apart and show us WALTZ moves, I figure that we're back in safe territory. Really now, waltz was an easy dance for the past two weeks. Johnny and DL WALTZ, TWINKLE, and move their little box all around the middle of the room. I meet up with Guy, and we do the same. Well, not exactly the same.

Eventually we get a break, and I'm already trying to figure out how to not lose my mind whilst doing the RUMBA. Maybe I can do some long division in my head, or try to alphabetically list all the items in my pantry. As we come back from break and line up, we watch Johnny and DL do the basic RUMBA and the extra steps we learned last week. When Guy and I pair up in the middle of the dance floor, I just look toward my shoes. He steps on my foot. (We're supposed to step sideways, not forward or back on the first step.) It's ok, since I must have stepped on his feet at least four or five times since we starting class this evening. We start again, and for a while, he sidesteps first, only to return to my foot. I tell him that I can help, but it involves a visual cue, and that he can't use it against me later. He agrees, and I do a little hip shimmy shake. I say that while you're shimmyshaking the hip, it's easier to swing the leg to the side than forward or back. I do my best to not think about Ford v.2 or Wimpy (he'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today) doing a shimmyshake with their hips. I'm unsuccessful. Guy immediately knows what's going through my mind, and the chuckling begins. Somehow we are able to complete a few RUMBA moves before being split. Johnny and DL throw in the fallaway breaks, the TWINKLES, and the underarm twirls. Soon Guy and I are back in the middle of the room, doing quite well until he teases me with the mention of Ford v.2.

To my ABJECT HORROR, Ford v.2 thinks that my laughter means that we are completely unable to RUMBA, and he offers to demonstrate WITH ME. My second-worst dance class nightmare is unfolding in front of my eyes. He's holding me in a fierce death-lock frame. He tells Guy that he's to move SEDUCTIVELY with his knees slightly bent, as if he's about to POUNCE UPON ME. Dear God, Make It Stop. Ford v.2 RUMBAs me a little while, pushing me backward and around with his arms and BELLY. I think it is taking every ounce of energy for me not to shriek, and all of Guy's energy not to burst out laughing. As soon as I can, I go back to Guy to show that indeed we did learn the step and NO I DON'T NEED MORE HELP THANK YOU. We RUMBA rather well, considering that we were a big RUMBA mess during the last two classes. I dance much better with my eyes closed (as to not be distracted by those glasses). He's getting the hang of side-stepping first.

When we line up again, we learn how to do the big dance circle. You know the move. After the girl swings away from the man, both of them move in a circle, arms outstretched. The woman dances forward, and the man dances backward. It's quite showy. It takes a couple of times for Guy and I to master the grand parade. Suddenly, I'm feeling like I could RUMBA all night, as long as I don't have to do it with Ford v.2.

The last dance is the TANGO, and we watch as Johnny and DL review all the steps we've already learned. With a wave, I meet Guy on the dance floor, and we start to TANGO. We're just as good at TANGO as we were last week, so we have a good time as we TANGO around the room. When Johnny splits us into gender lines, he teaches us the BUTTERFLY, a complex opening then swishing back and forth move that honestly has me snickering. Yeah. Right. He and the DL do the BUTTERFLY a few times, and I really think that I've got no chance of successfully completing even one of these moves.
Guy and I look at each other, and sort of sign with resignation. At first, we find a corner with no foot traffic. Then we agree to attempt the steps without doing the dance frame, with just facing each other while we look at our feet. Then it happens. Ford v.2 is back. I must need some help, he thinks. OH NO THANK YOU, WE'RE JUST TAKING OUR TIME. But no. He takes my arms, and we TANGO. (please let me go please let me go) He attempts to show Guy how to hold onto my back as we BUTTERFLY. (what? church? Ok. I'll go if you make this stop.) He leads me into the BUTTERFLY again. (celebate? Sure! Why not!) I think I'm going to pass out from swishing in all these directions. Not to worry, Ford's got a firm grip. (work with lepers will be rewarding!)

I finally escape to practice with Guy, and I'm determined enough for both of us to do this flawlessly. I really don't want to be shown anymore BUTTERFLY. We make it work. Ford v.2 seems happy, and moves off to another couple.
After a few rounds of TANGO BUTTERFLY, Guy and I almost do it properly. All I need is a slutty red and black dress, and we could be on a low-ratings PBS show.
sernin: (Default)
Aside from being a complete 45-minutes-early-for-class dork, class was magnificent.

Since I was early for the lesson, I helped arrange the chairs, and started chatting with other SINGLE GIRLS when they arrived. When they sat down with their cute little pink and black boxes, I had this awful feeling in the deep part of my stomach. The evil heifers had gone out and purchased DANCING SHOES. I was a 5th grader without a sticker book, or the only SINGLE GIRL in dance class without dancing shoes. I had an awful vision of Guy stolling over to one of the DANCING SHOES SINGLE GIRLS and twirling her around in her new shoes. Yes, I'm being dramatic, but we all revert to elementary school behavior when faced with strangers and social ineptitude.

Thankfully, Guy wasn't so easily snared with dancing shoes, and he chose me to again be his partner. (OK, so last week, I chose him when he was last to arrive, but technically he could have said, "NO WAY OLD LADY" and danced by himself... so I get to say that he chose me again.)

Much like last week, we watched Johnny and the Demonstration Lady FOXTROT, and then do it with all sorts of twirls and rocking steps. We found partners and pretended to remember how to FOXTROT. The next time we lined up, we learned how to TWINKLE. Yes, the men just sort of uttered these horrific noises, and the women sort of squee'd in delight. See, TWINKLE seems to be the part of the dance that my generation commonly refers to as "JAZZHANDS," or as any movements just made for explicit showy-ness. The married men are making eye contact with the wives, re-negotiating much more bedroom activity in trade for these embarrassing dance classes. TWINKLES! What would the guys in Tuesday night Bible class say if they knew?!

Guy and I partnered and FOXTROTTED. We TWINKLED. We threw in combinations of TWINKLES. Guy is the rare straight man who doesn't mind a bit of show.

Once the class has plenty of opportunity to TWINKLE their toes off, we separate to our sides of the room.
WALTZ is next, and again, we can TWINKLE while waltzing. We watch Johnny and DL twinkle around, and soon we're WALTZ and TWINKLE. After a few minutes, the 1986 boombox made a NOTGOOD sound, and Johnny's cassette made that squeak-break-the-tape sound. That was all the WALTZ TWINKLE we were going to do that night, and it was pretty clear that we were going to take a break.

After the break, it was time to RUMBA. After last week's frustrations with RUMBA, I was hoping to literally start off on a better foot. In our gender-segregated lines, the class watched as Johnny and DL did all the RUMBA moves from the previous week. I shuffled around, trying to make my feet learn by imitation. (The sound of 50 pair of feet shuffling on a dull wood floor is certainly interesting.) When Guy and I partnered, my hopes of better RUMBA through shuffling dissipated. We were quite terrible, still, at RUMBA. After a few failed attempts, Guy wonders if this dance was designed for right-handed people. Immediately my eyes widened. Only a left-hander would make that comment. I asked, "You're left-handed?" Before he even answered, I exclaimed, "I'm left handed! No wonder we can't do this dance!"
We poorly execute a few RUMBA's around the room, and then disaster struck.

I saw Don doing the RUMBA across the room. I did not need to see Ford v.2 doing the RUMBA. Ford v.1 is like a father figure in the professional sense, possibly even grandfatherly. The view of v.2 doing the DANCE OF SEDUCTION was just a bit too much for my overloaded brain. I started to snicker. The snickers were quickly followed by a fully flush face, and squeaky little hyperventilations. Before I know it, I've got the full-on giggles. Of course, Guy wants to know what's so funny. Here I have a couple of choices: Lie (and recant any funny scene from Seinfeld ... leaving him to wonder how in the world my brain found this tidbit in the middle of dance class.. not that it's so unusual for my brain...) or Tell Truth (that I just can't watch my v.2 grandfather doing the DANCE OF SEDUCTION, complete with swinging hip action). I told the truth, and for the next hour, Guy used this information against me. Teasing, he kept bringing up the mental image of Ford doing the RUMBA, and how I could get used to that kind of hip action.

We finally broke into our gender lines, and watched Johnny and DL TANGO. I have no doubt that Guy and I can TANGO. We were very good (for beginners) at this dance last week. As long as he doesn't lead me into another couple, we're ready for prime time. Bring on the rose. We TANGO wonderfully, and eventually say goodnight.
sernin: (Default)
I showed up at the YWCA just in time for class to start, and was amazed to see that there were probably 45-50 people there for the class. The teacher is Johnny from Dance Dance Studio. He's a little eccentric, but has been teaching dance for most of his life (in his late 50's, early 60's? Hard to tell with the hair dye).

He's been teaching for community learning center forever. He lined men on one side of the room and women on the opposite. (Hello, Jr High dance) He and the Demonstration Lady started the foxtrot. We watched. They foxtrotted. We watched, with little shuffles of our feet. They foxtrotted. We shuffled more boldly. Then he said to find a partner. Most of the people were already coupled when they walked in the door, from young en-fianced to older marrieds. The handful of obviously single women looked for any unattached men. As I scanned the room, and realized that I was not going to have a partner, I threw out a hail-mary prayer of "Dear God, Don't Let Me The Only One Without a Partner Please Please Please." In the door walked a guy. I asked him if he wanted to start, and did my best to teach him his half, messing up completely. The teacher came over and showed him the basic FOXTROT step (because we had already learned two advanced foxtrot steps, including SIDESTEP and ROCKSTEP). We started to FOXTROT, badly.

Before we knew it, we were lined up again with men on one side and women on the other side. This will be our positions every time we learn something new. Johnny just hollers "Line up" and like junior high PE class participants, we fall in line. Although some of the women are getting smarter by looking for spots under ceiling fans. Johnny and the Demonstration Lady (DL) do the FOXTROT, SIDESTEP, and ROCKSTEP again for us.

Then they do the FOXTROT, UNDERARM TWIRL. I swear that I could not stop the snicker from escaping my nose. Suddenly lots of people are looking at me, and I'm wishing instead that I had dropped a box of tampons in the middle of the room. Johnny and DL do the combination again, with the women looking at their feet and starting to shuffle. They do the combination a third time, and half the women are circling in line. He tells us to find our partners and I look across to see if he's still interested in the girl who snickered. He seems to think that the partnering for the night was chiseled in stone by the master of the universe (which may be true given my prayer), and we start the FOXTROT, TWIRL combination. It takes several times of me twirling too far away (because I can't imagine the horror of bumping into him by twirling too close) before I figure out the proper footing and spacing.

While dancing, the music provided by a 1986 jambox w/ pre-recorded cassette would often end a song in odd places. The "couples" would find themselves stuck in the odd place of dancing to no music or just standing around while other couples danced to the imaginary music. Certainly, Johnny didn't stop us once the music stopped. Very odd.

When Johnny did stop us (LINEUP), he said that it was waltz time. He and DL did the basic waltz box (WALTZ), and we watched. They WALTZ, we watch, and shuffle a bit. They WALTZ, and we shuffle a lot. FIND PARTNERS, and I find CUTEBOY.
He says, "(my name)?" And I'm floored. He says it right. First time.
By looking at my nametag he says it right. I make wedding plans.
I say, "Yes, Guy?" (His first name is Guy. The universe scrambled on the spot to provide me with a young man who willingly comes to a dance class alone, but they don't have time to give him a real name.) He asks if I have a musical background and I nod. He asks me to help him keep time. I say that I will. We begin to WALTZ. I realize quickly that we are going nowhere. He realizes that we are going nowhere. He asks if I think we're doing it wrong, since we aren't traveling. We stop and look around the room. Some of the partners are dancing in unmoving boxes, and some partners are auditioning for "Dancing with the Stars 3," traveling grandly around the room. I shrug and we go back to WALTZ. When we LINE UP, he shows us WALTZ TWIRL and WALTZ TURN three times each with the Demonstration Lady. Another FIND PARTNERS, and Guy and I are fumbling to learn WALTZ TWIRL. The problem seems to be in the language, since with the TWIRL, only the woman does the turning, while with the WALTZ TURN, both people make a quarter turn with every measure of music.

I think that Guy wants to try the TURN, but he was actually wanting to do the TWIRL. I end up calling it a girl swirl, and once we have a base language, we dance with much less clumsiness. When we attempt to do the TURN, he mentions that the geometric box should just be reversed as we move around the floor. I look at him and realize that Guy knows MATH. I ask a question, and find out that his mother is a math teacher.

Guy and I didn't have much success with turning our little waltz box around before we had to LINE UP again. Johnny and DL started showing us a new way to stand. With the first two dances, the women had their right hands up in the air like they were swearing in before giving testimony. The men then took that hand. The women then placed their left hand on the men's shoulders. The men then placed their free hand on the women's shoulders. It's all very proper and frame-like.

(This is the point where all things are very Dirty-Dancing-esque, not so much the dirty, but the dance lessons that Baby gets for the Big Show.) With the Rumba, the stance is different, because the dance is very close, personal, physical one. The women take their right hand and raise it, as if they're answering a question in history class. The men take the raised hands. The women take the men's shoulders, as before. Then the men get to place their hands on the women's backs. The stance is much closer, with not much room at all (if done properly) to look at one's toes. Then Johnny and DL start the basic RUMBA. We watch. They RUMBA. We watch and shuffle. They RUMBA. We watch and shuffle. Then one of the women down on the end of the line bellows, "Again, Please. Jim are you watching?!" Johnny and DL RUMBA again. Now other women are more bold. They've apparently been waiting all night to request more than just three run-throughs. Then it's time to FIND PARTNERS again. I'm a RUMBA nightmare. I can't find my footing, and I think that I stepped on Guy's toes a few times. Maybe I'm just distracted by the non-existence of REAL PASSION OF THE RUMBA. Maybe it's because every time someone takes a step, I see Baby and Johnny in the hot dance room with "Un Todo de Poco" playing. Of course, when I make a "Un Todo de Poco" joke, Guy doesn't get it. He was only 4 when Dirty Dancing was in the theater, and as a straight man, hasn't memorized every scene in the years since. Twice, I have to dance with Johnny the dance teacher (not to be confused with Johnny from DD), and I still can't make it work with guy. Thankfully, we get a break.

During the break, I ask about college. He says that he just graduated, and works for the Secretary of State's office in franchise tax section. He says that he's just graduated from OBU with a degree in political science. He mentions that he's hoping to go to law school. I ask which one, LR or the one on the hill, and he replies LR. I mention that I know someone in the 4-year night class. Suddenly it's time to LINE UP, and this time we're learning about the all the fancy add-on's to the RUMBA, including the SLIDE-PAUSE-SLIDE and the CUCARACHA. I'm snickering again. This time, at least I'm not embarrassed. I know that I won't be making a fool of myself with these advanced steps, since I can't yet get the simple RUMBA yet. We watch Johnny and DL RUMBA and the add-on's multiple times. (The women are quite vocal about what they need now.) We FIND PARTNERS and look quite pitiful as we attempt to RUMBA. Thankfully, the embarrassment doesn't last long. We again LINE UP for the last dance of the night. Johnny and DL do a nice TANGO, and he gives the group some verbal help with the timing (T-A-NGO like the B-I-NGO song). We FIND PARTNERS and find the room to go tango-ing across the room. I tell Guy that I'm trusting him to not lead us into danger, nor the back of another couple, for I'm dancing straight backward.

To both of our delight and surprise, we are natural TANGO dancers. We TANGO with grace until I mention that I need a rose. Then he remembers a Looney Tunes cartoon with Pepe Le Pew and a wilting rose doing the tango. Laughing makes me lose count, and I think there was a mess of toe stepping. We magically can find open room stretches where we think we are dazzling the crowd. (When really, we've just mastered basic TANGO.
We LINE UP for the last time, and we learn that we can add in ROCKTANGO to our basic steps. We watch Johnny and DL do it a few times, and back onto the floor we go. Guy and I are still capable, with me counting 8's in the music and saying the letters aloud. It's very hard for me not to laugh when I remember ballroom dancing skits from the Muppet Show. It's especially hard when I hear the "Rainbow Connection" playing during the evening. I mention the Muppet Movie. He doesn't get the reference. I guess that's what happens when one is born in 1983/1984. At least I didn't start quoting PIGS IN SPACE.

After the last of the music, and a brief review of all the dances by Johnny and DL, the class winds down. We are relieved to hear that most of us won't remember the steps to the dances by the time we get in our cars, much less next Monday night. As I'm halfway listening to Johnny, I realize that one of the real dancers (one of the extra men who come to class to accompany the single women) is someone I sort-of know. It's that thunk to the back of the head kind of knowing. (I have a mentor named Ford, who teaches at UALR.) It's Ford's brother, as verified by his "Hello My Name Is... Ford" name tag. I head over to him to say hello, and in so doing, I didn't get to say goodbye to Guy. Hopefully he took no offense, and will still dance with me next week. If not, maybe I'll dance with Ford version 2.0.


sernin: (Default)

February 2014



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