I spent the entire weekend swing dancing at the sunstate jam, which is pretty much another way of saying that I didn't know there was a muscle around my elbow, but I pulled it. I love taking any sort of classes--dancing, theology, acting, improv--you name it. It's fascinating to me to find these hidden pockets of culture in the Orlando community and tap into them. (Notice the use of 'tap' in an entry about swing? Good.)
One of the best parts of swing dancing is the comments I get from my partner. You might remember these treasures from a couple months ago. And this weekend did not disappoint.
Exhibit A: (Overheard): "So when I dance with you this way, it's just like walking a dog!"
Exhibit B: (with a look of sheer disgust on his face): "You're sweating already?....."
Exhibit C: (after accidently knocking him in the nose)
Muscle t-shirt guy: "Oooohhh!"
Me: "Oh, I'm so sorry!"
Muscle t-shirt guy: "Ahh.....eee....shi*$*%*" (a little too dramatic, even for me)
Me: "oh please. you're fine."
Muscle t-shirt guy: "Well, will you at least tell me if I have a bloody nose from this?"
Me: "Yes. Now let's dance."
Exhibit D: (after having danced exactly one song on the dance floor) "Wow! They have you working hard! You've worked up quite the sweat! Can I have this dance or are you too tired?"
And my personal favorite......
Exhibit E: "We just had an entire class on walking. (condescending look) So, how did you do?"