A few weeks ago at Girls Night we were watching some grand finale of So You Think You Can Dance. I’m not a follower of the show but from what I gather, the top two dancers of the season were performing a menagerie of the top dances ever on the show. After a few particularly impressive ones, we girls decided we needed to start dancing.
That was one of my personal favorites as in, I was amazed. Powerful.
But skip forward a few weeks and one of the girls has found a 12-week Ballroom Dance class and we’re gearing to go. The original group whittled itself down to three but we made it out last night for Class Number One. Of course, we’re not doing anything similar to what you see on So You Think You Can Dance – mainly because those people really can dance.
Another of my favorites from the show.
So last night we head over to a local church gym to start our 12-week session. We walk in and it’s an interesting mix of people. You’ve got your 60+ crowd, and your couples who look like they may be practicing up for an upcoming wedding dance, then you’ve got the random couples who may or may not be on a first date (interesting choice, I’d say), and finally you’ve got people like us who just showed up for a good time.
As we walk in there’s a guy already dancing. In the middle of the gym floor. By himself. Looking for all the world like Telly Savalas’ slimmer, blue-eyed brother.
I’m pumped. Like I might win $1 mil at the end of this kind of pumped. Somehow I’m convinced I’m gonna look like this at the end….
(This may secretly be my favorite. This or the first one. It’s close.)
Alas, they weren’t teaching me how to properly writhe around on my dining room table. We learned the fox trot instead.
Slooow, sloow, Fast!, Fast! Slooow, sloow, Fast!, Fast!
Need a visual?
Zz..Wait..where’d you go? Exactly. The excitement level plummets. Wah Wah Waaaah.
Being as I’m solo, I get paired with one of the “experienced” men who has a name tag that reads, ‘I CAN HELP”. He’s about my height (5’1″) but he’s the sweetest guy. My first spin around he tells me quietly, “You’ll get used to it eventually and not have to watch your feet.” Oh yeah. Forgot about that.
That becomes my silent mission. Stop looking at your feet. Before long I’m getting compliments. ‘You’re doing really good!’ ‘That’s right!’ ‘You’re doing great!’ My head is getting bigger and bigger with each new praise.
Next up I find myself dancing with That. Guy. The one who was dancing by himself when we first walked in. I’ve heard he’s a drill sergeant and I’m a little nervous. Oh no, what if I mess up? What if I don’t do it right? He gives me some pointers here and there (‘Your arm needs to be poised, not limp.’) but he also jokes about teaching me the grapevine so I feel like overall, I passed his test. I’m a fox trot pro!!
Lastly I dance with a 17 year old guy who walked in playing the role of Fashion Don’t. Tight tapered jeans with black cowboy boots…with a silver chain going under the heel…and don’t forget the obligatory Alabama Crimson Tide t-shirt! Roll Tide!!! Bless him. But he was a sweet guy too. He’d been taking classes since January and was a decent little fella.
The class was – sadly – over after that. I had a GREAT time!!! Loved it!
The Telly Savalas guy found me afterwards to ask how I liked it. He joked again about the grapevine and asked if I’d ever seen Fred Astaire movies. Um, no. I mean, I can only assume he asked because I was dancing so much like Mr. Astaire. Right? Hello? Crickets. lol
Just one more of those awesome dances. Check out the jump around the 1:17 mark.