This Fish Needs A Bicycle

siente el ritmo

This morning really kicked my ass.

And just now, I sat down to write a bitter little diatribe about all the ways I was pissed off and diappointed all before 10 AM, but even I don't write that anymore than you want to read it.

So let's talk about gettin' my groove on, Latin style.

And how tonight also really kicked my ass. But in a good way.

The Adorable Instructor, as he shall henceforth be known, rocked my little gringa world. A few of my dance partners also rocked my world, but that's another story altogether. Adorable Instructor is a silver-haired flamboyantly gay man who laughs at his own jokes and suddenly yells things like "Cease fire!" to a room full of bodies moving awkwardly to their own rhythms.

Quick, quick, slow.

"Cease fire!"

And we all stop and watch him try to find his words. Or rather, for him to slow down enough so that we may interpret them. He's a lively one.

I had only one real salsa lesson before in my life, in a downstairs dive bar in a section of Madrid, known for prostitution. My instructor was a hooker named Chary. She wore purple vinyl that crinkled audibly when we moved.

"Adelante. Para atras..."

I learned a few really great swears from Chary as well, but those left less of an impression than the sudden discovery that my hips would move that way. And move that way they did again tonight.

Any dance lesson I learned from her has slowly been diluted by my attendance at gringo clubs, forgetfulness and the lack of trained partners. But after Adorable Instructor and his entourage of machismos get through with me, I'm going to be one hot blooded, salsa-dancing machine.

I have some DLG on the stereo, and can feel my quads are a little tight from dancing. And my face hurts from smiling. Which totally beats how I started off the day.

Vale!

Posted by This Fish at February 10, 2004 09:34 PM