Friday, October 14, 2011

Ballroom Dance Lessons

My husband I were supposed to start ballroom dancing classes three weeks ago. But the building was out of power. Clearly, The Universe didn't want us to dance, but oh no, we didn't listen. Screw you, Universe, the rhythm in our hearts cannot be contained by a power station.

The next week, the building was dark once again. I was beginning to think the forces of nature were so horrified at the thought of us trying to dance that they were conspiring against us. Turns out it was closed for the Jewish holiday.

Last week was our most recent attempt at becoming graceful gazelles that float across the floor on a cloud of sexy chemistry and hardcore foreplay. Sorry, if that's TMI, folks, but we all know it's the only reason my husband agreed to this.

Fortunately, the building was lit up like a Christmas tree. This dance lesson was on like Donkey Kong in a tutu and tap shoes. Which, interestingly enough, was exactly what I was wearing. We proceeded to the basement, in a room with a low ceiling and five couples. The dance instructor separated us into boys on one side of the room, girls on the other. Like middle school, yes. Only this time one of the boys was actually taller than I was and he was obligated to dance with me.

If only my middle-school self could see me now.

*Pumps fist*

I watched my husband's face as the dance teacher demonstrated how to walk, how to place your feet, move your hips and hold your arms. His face was a peculiar landscape of anxiety, dread, mystification and horror.

I almost felt bad for him but for the most part I was delighted. You see, it was clear to me that he was doing this entirely for me and me alone. His lighthearted and carefree "Yeah, sure" to my request to take dancing lessons belied his total and complete fear.

At one point, the dance instructor flat out called the class "foreplay." Of course I had to waggle my eyebrows at my husband across the room. He tried to keep a straight face because the instructor was facing the men. I was free to ape and ham it up while he was right in the spotlight.

When the instructor informed the men that they had to put their "finger in the hole" in their partner's back, next to the shoulder blade, I stared hard at my husband and opened my mouth wide in silent laughter.

No reaction. He was unmoved by my antics and I found this was wholly unacceptable.

When she went on to explain that they could probably fit "two fingers in the hole" I opened my mouth even wider and made bug eyes at him. This time he had to stifle a laugh and look down at his shoes.


My husband's pained expression really didn't leave his face for the duration of learning the steps. We were getting the basics of the Foxtrot, including "The Magic Step" and "The Box Step." I tried to use sign language to communicate to him, "I've got a magic box for you ... ha ha ha!" But sadly, that didn't work either.

The only time he looked like he was enjoying himself was when the instructor told the men that they'd have to push their women around in order to lead. She wasn't exaggerating. She showed us how the men actually have to push the woman to step backwards, or pull her forward, or pull/push her to the side.

"Like a horse!" my husband said. I narrowed my eyes.

When it was our turn to dance, he started forcefully shoving me around the dance floor. I had to follow his lead and do what he said.

"The man is always right," the dance teacher said. "The lead is never wrong."

I watched my husband's face light up as he pushed me and I went where he wanted me to go. Sure we stepped on each other's feet and neither of us knew which way to go on a few of the steps, but locked in each other's arms I was forced to follow his lead.

"I like pushing you around!" he said.

It was a little disturbing, frankly. But he felt strong and in charge, which was sort of hot. It really did end up being an awkward hour of foreplay set to music. I have no idea if we'll ever actually learn to dance, but pushing me around for an hour once a week seems to make my husband happy.

That wasn't my plan exactly, but I'm willing to follow his lead.


  1. TMI nothin', we all understand. How wonderful and sweet and yes, sexy.

  2. My vagina is so not persuasive enough to get my husband into dance lessons. Kudos to your husband for being brave!

  3. So, does this make you Ginger Rogers? You two are braver than I.

  4. Oh how fun! My husband actually taught me how to swing dance when we first got together and we have taken a couple of Salsa classes since we've been married...definitely a great form of foreplay! (although he never did convince me to do Scandinavian Folk Dancing with him...can you blame me???)

  5. I like the style Nuevo Tango dance,because its described as "..moves that none could imagine before." Woh And actor Robert Duvall Tango's as a hobby as if that means anything )

  6. @Algernon: If I remember correctly, you know how to dance.

    @Erin: We're trying to keep the magic alive.

    @Eva: No. No it doesn't. Though for some reason the dance instructor kept using me as her dance partner to demonstrate the moves last night for the group.

    @Padded Cell: I didn't even know there was such a thing. I think you should do it, for the blog material. Take pictures.

    @The Last Santa: I remember reading that about Robert Duvall. Or I saw it on Barbara Walters.

  7. How awesome!! I'd LOVE to take ballroom dance lessons! It's good to have a sense of humor about them as well, keeps everyone on their toes. Lame, I know.

  8. Oh, I struggle, but don't dance much these days. (You can interpret that as widely as you wish.) But I have wonderful memories of a date, long long ago, when a woman who knew how to swing dance took me out and taught me things, which led to other kinds of dancing...

  9. I think I may just bring up that HE did it and let myself off the hook of embarrassment ;) (plus if there is any jumping up and down then I may just start attracting the wrong type of followers...)

  10. gigglegiggle

    I love how you're in 6th grade like me....

  11. HA! This was a great read! Have fun!

  12. Ha! Love this post! I don't think I could ever convince my husband to take dance lessons, especially after the amount of scoffing he did at my brother's wedding a few weeks ago, when he and his bride had their first dance and it was obvious that they'd taken lessons. He just couldn't run his mouth enough about how "silly" my brother looked. I think you're right though... it's fear. ;P

  13. Look at you trying new things! And just so he knows, you're actually really in charge.

  14. @Amelia: I'm not as good as I thought I would be.

    @The Empress: There is a part of me that will forever remain the wallflower, waiting for a chance to dance.

    @Lauren: Thanks!

    @Nuke Girl: Totally fear.

    @Logical Libby: You made me do an evil laugh.

  15. I wish my guy could relax enough to want to do this, but for a musician who TOTALLY FEELS the music he makes, he somehow cannot translate that feeling to the lower half of his body.

    It is a mystery, wrapped in an enigma.

  16. Hahaha I love that pushing you around for an hour makes him happy. I think most men would enjoy that!

    We took ONE dance class before our wedding and totally felt like middle school kids, too. Middle school kids foreplaying for an hour...

  17. You are both brave. Me dancing involves a lot of alcohol. Even then there may be people who wish I would stop. Not just because I am stepping on their feet either.

  18. I love it! I've got a magic box for ya made me giggle out loud.
    And I WISH my adolescent me could see me today and know it will all be okay. You turn out just fine. But then, I suppose it wouldn't be adolescence without the angst.

  19. Just found your blog! It's fantastic. I took ballroom dance lessons once. Unfortunately my then partner had 3 or 4 left feet. Don't ask me how, but he did.

  20. Thanks, Haven. Nice to have you here.