And we dance...

 

I finally went out salsa dancing with some other students last night. I have had two classes and have gotten better, which gave me some (false) confidence- which I should have checked at the door becuse I know I am not a good coordinated dancer. So we go, and the music is playing. And here comes the instructor from Cuba. Trying to teach us how to dance. And failing. I have never met a worse instructor. It is not that he is a bad dancer. He was so rough. Threw you around. Put you over there without warning. And I do not mean this in a sexy way. He would show you a complicated step once and look at you like you were stupid for not getting it the first time. The worst. He must be awful in bed.

 

 

Nevertheless, after the 5 minutes he spent on me he gave up saying that I had no sense of time and passed me off to his friend to show me. Which was a much better experience. This was not before he told me that I needed to be more sexy and move my hips. Then proceded to demonstrate in a crude manner.

 

 

(Insert a c´mon son face here - for those of you who do not know what this means - I looked at him like he was a damn fool and insulting my intelligence).

 

 

Now, my rhythm may be off but I have no problems moving my somewhat large hips or being sexy. How about you worry about the fact that I don´t got the steps right, Mr. Instructor Man, and don´t come no where near my sexy, thank you very much.

 

 

Anyways, I danced with the friend and it was a much better experience. I actually got to dance by someone who could lead. Which means I can pretend I know what I am doing even thou my timing was a little off at first (well a lot at first), and I messed up the steps during the spins. And when I got off the dance floor I was told by the other students how sexy I looked out there. 

 

 

BOO - YAAA MR. INSTRUCTOR MAN!! 

 

 

E