Last night at swing class we did the awful inevitable: we switched partners. Several times. Which is supposedly great for learning, but totally sucks. I can't learn when I'm being swung around the room like a f*cking rag doll.
I'm spoiled, and I know it. Fiancé's a terrific dancer, and honestly with swing it's all the guy anyway - you just follow their lead.
There are some very funny characters in our swing class. There's a guy we've named the Brit (so named because he's a Brit). He says some really funny stuff and is generally very serious about swing class. He's getting married soon. Lots of people who take dance class are about to get hitched. But his fiancée is always "unable to make it." Which makes me wonder if the whole engagement thing is an elaborate ruse to disguise the fact that he's a normal guy with no extenuating circumstance who might actually like to dance. Or... maybe she's quite busy.
The Brit's got no lead. At all. And he kind of hops around a lot. And he tends to go nuts with the turns. Which is forgivable, except that he 1) is in position right by a set of open french doors leading outside and 2) comes to class schnockered. I can smell the alcohol wafting off of his sweaty skin, and I fear that at any moment I'm going to be flung out the open doors and down the stone steps.
I think a lot of people assume that a drink will take the edge off, making them better dancers because it relieves some of the anxiety. Which might be true. One drink. But this guy hits happy hour harder than a frat boy hits the keg at homecoming. I can speak from experience that drinking too much makes you a bad dancer - I always want to quit dancing once I get tipsy because I have no balance and I get the spins really easily from all the, well, spinning.
We continued to switch partners all night, with the followers (women) moving down one person to their left after each song. By the time I got back to Fiancé I was SO happy to see him. He looked pretty happy to see me too. We're used to each other, which makes a HUGE difference. And we're both pretty calm dancers who watch the footwork and focus on form. When we finally got to dance, it was like heaven. We kept our steps small and stayed close, and I whispered into his ear about the Brit being a boozer. He laughed, and it felt like coming home.
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