Skip to main content

The Dance Off

A little while back, the Mild Girlfriend and I started taking dance classes. It was just one of those things we decided to for a date night, and we've both been enjoying it quite a bit. I'm not exactly a stranger to dancing, and I even have a war story or two to tell about salsa class. Still, it's been many, many years since I've done any kind of ballroom dancing, and I was legitimately worried about rust. After all, much of the guy's part is about timing and thinking ahead to make sure things work out well.

Luckily for us, we had a good instructor, and the timing started to come back after a couple of lessons. Now, these classes involved a combination of dances, so I was learning quite a bit (look, Ma, I can sort of cha cha now). In hindsight, learning the different styles all at once was actually kind of helpful; it forced me to focus on both the similarities and differences. In its own way, it taught me what was important, almost by contrast, so I was able to pick up on a few nuances a little bit more.

In the process, my engineering brain reared its head yet again. Every time we do something that doesn't quite click for me, I ask questions. A lot of them. Some of them are simple ones ("should I start the turn on 3? Or on the 4?"), but the more common, and more interesting, ones are of the very technical variety. If I notice that a turn isn't working very well, I start to worry about things like my hand placement. Am I holding my hand high enough? Should I turn my left hand so that it's parallel to the ground instead of perpendicular? When the turn is over, how should I be holding my partner's hand? Our instructor has been quite amused by this, largely because that's not how she thinks. However, she has patiently answered all of my questions, and it's helped out quite a bit.

Of course, none of the training is quite the same as actual, live dancing. That's why this particular dance studio has a group lesson/dance party thing every so often. Well, we decided to give it a shot. We were in the beginner group, but it was still fun. We managed to get the hang of our dance, and even hung out and learned a few more things on the fly (apparently, you can pick out the footwork for a basic waltz if you stare hard enough). We were having an enjoyable night, and we figured we sort of understood the basic idea of these dance parties.

Alas, no. I have no idea if it's a common thing, but the instructors decided that the men all had to have a dance off. Yes, a dance off. And I was in the beginner's group at the beginning of the night, so I was seriously outmatched. Dammit.

Luckily, they just played some music and let us all kind of move in a large group. It's not like I had to step forward by myself or anything, so I just kind of did my thing. I knew I wasn't going to impress anyone with my ballroom dancing, and I figured I probably shouldn't two-step or do any kind of casual, hip-hop type dancing. So, I resigned myself to being a bit of a wallflower during this whole ordeal. A minute or so later, after the clapping had subsided, I figured it was over.

Nope.

A couple of the instructors and some of the other students seemed to notice that a couple of us had hung back during the group dance off. They decided that they weren't having that. THAT'S when they decided that I needed a spotlight, so it was a one-on-one dance off between me and another guy. They even gave us back up dancers behind us to really put on a show. Great. Just great.

At that point, though, they just happened to be playing something with a pretty defined bass line. I could pick it out, and it had a bit of a tempo. I remember thinking, "well, hell. All right, I guess anything goes, then. Casual hip hop it is, then." I'm guessing that part of the reason why they picked us for this second, mini dance off was that they wanted us to get into it. And as soon as I mentally flipped the switch, I did precisely that. There was a lot of laughter, whooping, and hollering. One of the other instructors told me that she heard the commotion from all the way in another room.

So, yeah. Dance classes have been a ton of fun. Also, beware group dance lessons, and definitely keep an eye out for anything resembling a dance off. You may have to bust out your trusty two step.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

All Good Things ...

August 8, 2009. Over twelve years ago, I started blogging with this simple post . I didn't really have a great reason for starting the blog, other than I wanted to try it out. I wanted to try writing and putting it where others could read it. I don't know, it just seemed like a new adventure to try. Along the way, there have been all sorts of posts and all sorts of life events, but through it all, I kept writing. It just became a part of what I do at some point. It wasn't a matter of whether I was going to write a blog post, it was a matter of when. The Mild Wife has described it as a "writing practice," and it was one of the reasons why I kept writing. Honestly, it's good practice, and it gives me an opportunity to hone my craft. I'm no professional author, but we all have to write stuff in our everyday lives. Why not give yourself reps to get better at it? However, I think it's time for that practice to change. My weekly anecdotes sure kept me amused...

Dreams

Normally, I don't eat very many sweets. I tend to eat pretty generous portions, but I generally prefer savory food over sweet. In fact, I usually prefer things half as sweet when possible. My preference doesn't have anything to do with health reasons, it's just one of those things that I've always liked better. That said, I do inevitably eat dessert, particularly if I'm out with other people. My stance towards dessert is roughly equivalent to those who are social drinkers . If other people want to munch on something for dessert, I'm not about to cross my arms and refuse. That'd be just a tad gauche. So, I do eat some dessert. I even have a few standby favorites that I'll usually order when presented with them (brownies, creme brulee, and apple pie). But left to my own devices, I'm not about to go hunting for dessert. Apparently, this means that the sugar can really mess with my system under the right circumstances. As I've discovered, ...

New York City Trip (Day 1)

After my crappy flight , I was now in Newark, New Jersey at 7AM on a Friday morning. I had done a little bit of reading up, so I knew which bus I needed to take and where I was going to get off. All in all, getting into the city was surprisingly easy. I suppose speaking the language does make things simpler. Through no real planning of mine (a theme of the trip, at least on my part), I picked one of the later bus stops at which to get off, Grand Central. I actually just figured that getting off at Grand Central would give me options, and heck, it's called Grand Central. That just screamed "decent place to disembark that might be close to some stuff" to me, so that's where I got off. However, it also meant that we drove down 42 nd St to get to my bus stop. That just happens to be a big street, and it gave me a glimpse of Times Square as we drove by. My bus stop choice had accidentally given me a rough layout of the city. Go me. I had about 6 hours to kill...