September 1st, 2006


Inner, outer, join.

Chris (noisybastard), Lenka and I went to swing dance lessons at CJ's yesterday evening. The instructor gave us a basic introduction to east coast swing. After few turns, admonishments and a lot of timing practice the lights dimmed and we were on the dance floor.

I suppose we were already on the dance floor; but, when the pros come out and start doing lindy hop and crazy aerials, it's easy to feel a bit intimidated.

My earlier country swing experience at The Beach (the club down the road) provided an advantage in terms of understanding the fundamentals. However, the one-two-punch combination of not knowing the music or the steps caused for repeated embarrassing showings for Y.T.. In jealous comparison, Chris and Lenka seemed to be doing just fine with their various partners and themselves.

Of course, the night would not be complete without a comparison and contrast.

Therefore, after spending a few hours over at Zoe Cafe studying, Chris and I headed over to Valhalla to grab a pitcher of beer and an evening of entertainment. The intoxicating combination of a pitcher of Mac and Jack's and the meat market with a occupied dance floor provided with spades. Perhaps the highlight was the male-male-female triplet performing an interpretive dance of... our best guess was "running a train" on the female.

We decided sober swing nights beat the pants off conditioning ourselves to mentally stamp our peers as whores, finished our beer, and aren't likely to return.