A Spring In My Step

I enjoy music, almost every kind. At parties I never hesitate to, as they say, "shake what your momma gave you!" I can defend myself on the dancefloor, but nothing Fred Astaire would be proud of. My wife feels the same way and decided we should go take dancing classes. I was reluctant at first, simply because I don't like to feel tested for the way I move my body to the music. She insisted and last night we drove to where the class was given.

As soon as we entered, Salsa music flooded the mid-size hall and we saw two teachers and a couple practicing basic steps in front of a wall mirror. We were greeted by one of the teachers, also a coworker of my wife, and lined up beside them. They showed us some basic steps: left to right and forward to back. I was nervous at first, but then I let the music loosen me up and began to go with the flow.

Later we paired up and this time I wasn't feeling so loose. Where the left hand is supposed to be, when to push or pull your partner. I grumbled because of the strictness of it all. Dancing is supposed to be fun, not a rigid sequence of steps and perfect posture, but I got over that later on and had some fun dancing with my wife.

For next Monday we have to practice how to correctly twirl our partner. I haven't felt so much pressure since cramming for a college midterm. I'm exaggerating, of course, but we will definitely need to practice!