Warning: Before I get all cynical, I want to tell you, dear reader, that this class is actually a very sweet notion. While I live in a sarcastic Seinfeld-built bubble where I create random names for strangers like Studio Mickey and argue about meaningless detail, it's nice to know that some people don't live in that world.
In this world, there's still a group of people that get dressed up, grease up the hair, and go to a East Coast Swing Class. In this world, there's still a subset of these people looking to meet another non-jaded soul that still believes in the hope that one can show up to a dance, spin a girl around, and get the girl. It's so pure. But not when you're expecting a fitness class, and not when you haven't showered after Battle Ropes, and not when Class Pass didn't indicate that this was a date or pick-up (albeit awkward pick-up) activity where you should where red lipstick and roll your hair.
I should have known. Drop in Swing on a Friday Night.... I should have known! I should have turned around, but I was super set on avoiding that $15 charge, so despite what I saw at the door, I charged in. What did I see? I saw some Pinterest inspired Swing Gals with long skirts dragging their confused boyfriends to the door. I saw some old people (and by old, I mean +75) waiting in chairs. I viewed the massive corner of robot nerds congregating the the corner. It became clear that these guys are here to find a lady. Oh. Oh. Oh. I walked into somewhere I absolutely do not belong. The velvet curtains, the scratchy record player, the flowery perfume smell, it's all not for me.
Sigh. I'm here.... I might as well step on the floor and pick a partner? That guy looks ok. I'll just walk up to him and ask if he has. Wait. What? Noooooo. He just sneezed in his hand. What if they all sneeze in their hands? Maaannnnn.... I was relieved when they dance instructors said we'd get in a big circle, no partners. We learn a move... which is pretty easy. Ok, I can do this. No touching random snot rocketeers, no awkard interaction. Unfortunately, they tell us to partner up, and this college looking kid with AMAZING blue eyes asks if I have a partner. I am totally down with this idea because I didn't see him sneeze into his hands. I don't know where his partner went, but I wasn't arguing. I got lucky!
So we get in the position, and he puts his hand on my back, and I suddenly feel very aware that I have not showered since Battle Ropes and this kid's hand is on my back, and his hand is uncomfortably hot. This is where I confess that I am very good at making awkward situations way more awkward than they have to be. I say without thought "Do you feel awkward? Does this seem ridiculous?" He smiles and tells me that yes, he didn't know what he (his girlfriend) has got himself into. And then, not being done being awkward, I tell him that I may stink, and I am sorry, but I already worked out today. This is where he became completely flustered by his partner's weirdness. Oh well, time to switch partners, anyway. Thank goodness. Blue Eyes was probably freaked out by the weird old lady in exercise pants.
Some partners wont switch. They don't have to, they're on a date. The hug as if to say "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" with their bodies. This is a funny analogy because some of the partners are as old as Gandolf, and probably many of the other partners sit at home on most nights and watch Gandolf. I get it... I"m not getting on your man with my stanky workout gear. Partner #3 tells me he's been coming our for Swing two weeks. He's dressed up. He sneezed into his hand. I can't touch him because I know what he did. And I move on to partner #4. He's short....I mean, like my thirteen year old daughter short. He's a good leader though. He's very encouraging, and I almost understood what he said. I swear that partner #5 was Napolean Dyanmite with straight hair. He laughed awkwardly, he turned me when it wasn't time. I said good bye. I grabbed my purse. I left.
Verdict: No F'ing Way. As romantic as the idea of Swing is in the movies, it's not for me. I'd rather hang out at the brewery around the corner.
In this world, there's still a group of people that get dressed up, grease up the hair, and go to a East Coast Swing Class. In this world, there's still a subset of these people looking to meet another non-jaded soul that still believes in the hope that one can show up to a dance, spin a girl around, and get the girl. It's so pure. But not when you're expecting a fitness class, and not when you haven't showered after Battle Ropes, and not when Class Pass didn't indicate that this was a date or pick-up (albeit awkward pick-up) activity where you should where red lipstick and roll your hair.
I should have known. Drop in Swing on a Friday Night.... I should have known! I should have turned around, but I was super set on avoiding that $15 charge, so despite what I saw at the door, I charged in. What did I see? I saw some Pinterest inspired Swing Gals with long skirts dragging their confused boyfriends to the door. I saw some old people (and by old, I mean +75) waiting in chairs. I viewed the massive corner of robot nerds congregating the the corner. It became clear that these guys are here to find a lady. Oh. Oh. Oh. I walked into somewhere I absolutely do not belong. The velvet curtains, the scratchy record player, the flowery perfume smell, it's all not for me.
Sigh. I'm here.... I might as well step on the floor and pick a partner? That guy looks ok. I'll just walk up to him and ask if he has. Wait. What? Noooooo. He just sneezed in his hand. What if they all sneeze in their hands? Maaannnnn.... I was relieved when they dance instructors said we'd get in a big circle, no partners. We learn a move... which is pretty easy. Ok, I can do this. No touching random snot rocketeers, no awkard interaction. Unfortunately, they tell us to partner up, and this college looking kid with AMAZING blue eyes asks if I have a partner. I am totally down with this idea because I didn't see him sneeze into his hands. I don't know where his partner went, but I wasn't arguing. I got lucky!
So we get in the position, and he puts his hand on my back, and I suddenly feel very aware that I have not showered since Battle Ropes and this kid's hand is on my back, and his hand is uncomfortably hot. This is where I confess that I am very good at making awkward situations way more awkward than they have to be. I say without thought "Do you feel awkward? Does this seem ridiculous?" He smiles and tells me that yes, he didn't know what he (his girlfriend) has got himself into. And then, not being done being awkward, I tell him that I may stink, and I am sorry, but I already worked out today. This is where he became completely flustered by his partner's weirdness. Oh well, time to switch partners, anyway. Thank goodness. Blue Eyes was probably freaked out by the weird old lady in exercise pants.
Some partners wont switch. They don't have to, they're on a date. The hug as if to say "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" with their bodies. This is a funny analogy because some of the partners are as old as Gandolf, and probably many of the other partners sit at home on most nights and watch Gandolf. I get it... I"m not getting on your man with my stanky workout gear. Partner #3 tells me he's been coming our for Swing two weeks. He's dressed up. He sneezed into his hand. I can't touch him because I know what he did. And I move on to partner #4. He's short....I mean, like my thirteen year old daughter short. He's a good leader though. He's very encouraging, and I almost understood what he said. I swear that partner #5 was Napolean Dyanmite with straight hair. He laughed awkwardly, he turned me when it wasn't time. I said good bye. I grabbed my purse. I left.
Verdict: No F'ing Way. As romantic as the idea of Swing is in the movies, it's not for me. I'd rather hang out at the brewery around the corner.
you.are.killing.me! laughed all the way through reading this one.
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