Without thinking, S and I were doing terpicio or whatever the hell it's called. We arrived at exactly 8 to dance class, seeing some new faces as well as the regulars, and they were already dancing. Unlike any other time we've gone, a man was sitting outside the room. He asked us for our names to make sure we were on the list of paying dancers. That's smart. It's a good thing we didn't go with our original idea of simply showing up since Jean would probably just let us dance. What does she care about registration? She's there to dance, dangit! After giving our names, we jumped right in, standing in the back corner since our spot in the front was not taken over completely, but I felt bad standing in front of someone.
That didn't matter really since as soon as we took up a spot in the back, the class turned to do the back wall. Jean looked at us and said, You remember this. And then, we were dancing some sort of mambo chacha that we learned last session. She was calling on different people by name, asking them if they had the step and how they were doing. I said to S, they must have done names. S was like, You're so right--I'm going to be Christina if she asks. Heh heh.
Jean did not ask.
Instead, she pointed to the man in the middle of the room who could literally not dance one step correctly and said, You should come on Wednesdays for the beginner class. He said, I want to dance with her, and hugged his wife (or girlfriend? but most likely wife) around her shoulders. Jean was halfway through saying that they should both come to the beginner class when the woman said, I can't come on Wednesdays.
She should make time to come on Wednesdays.
The man proclaimed he was a total klutz with no rhythm at all. He is very self-aware. I like that. S also said he got points for the "I'm doing this for her" comment. Awww, we like Can't Dance Man. Except for when we're dancing because that really messes me up. The guy left class to go into the hall often because there were several points when he almost fell over himself. Safety first!
The woman was dancing somewhat but had a hard time picking up a lot of it. I never realized how intermediate the class was until I saw them. I think Jean simply did not go over basic steps because it is intermediate and she's not wasting her time on stuff we should know.
We learned I Am A Good Girl from Burlesque. Jean does not like "bad" words and would not teach any songs from Pink and closes her ears when the guy who sings "Toes" says the word "ass," yet she continues to teach dances from Burlesque. Oh, Jean. I love her logic.
As we learned the dance, we realized that one of the mullets was back! Yeay! We got a little turned around with some of it at first since it contains a walk around yourself and after walking, everyone was facing in different directions, but we caught on.
We did not wear belts like these. Safety first!
A woman we recognized from a different dance venue came out dancing all dance-like. We agreed she must have been a professional at some point. Even so, she messed up. The problem with professionals who mess up is that they remain confident in their mistakes so everything they do has purpose and is distracting and hard not to follow. So I watched the floor whenever we faced her so I wouldn't mess up more.
To slow it down a bit since some people were getting tense about not being able to pick it up, we did French Toast. S hated even the mention of French Toast, which made me love it more. As we learned "bread," which is a step also called the "night-club step" when we're not dancing French Toast, S proclaimed that it wasn't so much the dance she dislikes; it's the song. That made me love the song even more!
Jean moved onto some other dances we all already knew. Everyone except for Can't Dance Man and his wife. She asked us how long we'd been dancing. S said a few years. I explained we'd taken her beginner class FIRST and then came into this class in addition to dancing at the beach and St. Catherine's in the summer.
Wow, we dance a lot.
We moved onto Ballando. Jean said maybe ten times, We're going to do Ballando. Then she spelled it loudly: B-A-L-L-A-N-D-O. When she went to teach the first step, no joke, someone asked, What's this dance called? Seriously.
As we learned a few counts and turned to the next wall, Jean told the wife of Can't Dance Man, "Stand in front of the girls--they'll help."
And there it is.
Then she emphasized by pointing at a specific tile on the floor, Here, here. "Between April and the girls." April was the woman in front of us from last session. We are still The Girls.
The woman stood close and then I realized, Wow she's wearing a lot of perfume. I usually don't mind scents, but this was overwhelming. Plus, we're in a situation where breathing is more required than not. Wearing perfume should not be allowed in dance class. Ever.
Still, since Jean instructed she stand there, she stuck there, and I continued to dance while becoming lightheaded either from the scent clouding up my lungs or from my attempt to not breath as much as necessary so I wouldn't take in the perfume cloud.
We got through the dance. We did I Am A Bad Girl again. Then we did Love Letter Waltz. Jean taught it pretty quickly because most of us knew it. I don't agree that she should do that, but then again, if we had only intermediate dancers, everyone should be able to pick it up.
At this point, S noticed a big puddle on the floor. She disappeared during a quick break and when she came back, she was holding a roll of toilet paper. I was like, What are you, mainenance? She was like, they aren't gonna clean it.
Good thing she cleaned it because the waltz requires a lot of space. Perfume Lady needs to take self-awareness lessons from her husband because she was all up in my space. I know Jean told her to dance there, but Jean did not say, Get in the way. She had a really hard time picking up the dance. She did say to me, I am not getting any of this. I said, You will once you get the basic steps--that's all you need and then you'll get the dances.
I was being nice. Can't Dance Man returned to do the waltz, at which point S said to me, Don't you think he should have been in the room during the teaching part? Yes, but then again, even when he was there for the teaching for the other dances, it didn't make a difference. And so we were off to do the waltz. The two of them did not do one step right. It was so off that it got me confused and I messed up about 16 counts. I can get myself back to where I need to be by watching S. As I did so, Perfume Lady said quite loudly, Come on! You're supposed to be teaching me!
Um, no. Jean's supposed to be teaching you. I? Am supposed to be enjoying my dance space. Really, I don't mind when people watch us dance. I honestly make my steps exaggerated sometimes so they can see what my feet are doing. I understand that this lady was overwhelmed and that she was joking, but at that point, she'd been in my way, messing me up, and smelling up my personal air for way too long, and I wasn't having it. I gave a fake laugh and then ignored her the rest of the time, getting into HER dance space to recoop what I'd lost, but I don't think that made a difference.
At 9:30, Jean called it quits. The couple was like, It's over? We were like, Yup. She was like, I didn't get any of that.
Yeah, I'm aware of that.
Because of Valentine's day conflicting with dance class, I asked Jean if I could come on Wednesday. She was like, It doesn't matter; just wait til you see what I'm working with in that class.
This is gonna be good. At least then I expect the slow pick up and lack of dance skills. Perfume should really look into the Wednesday class.