You're home from work, looking for a little R&R. You grab yourself a beer, strip down to your bra and undies. No one's home, so you crank the music - maybe a little Miley Cyrus since your hubby's not around to give you a hard time. Next thing you know, you're sliding across the floor like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. You know you look ridiculous but that's ok, because you're dancing in your living room. Alone.
And then WHAM!
A giant spotlight descends upon you and you're on a massive stage surrounded by dancers - REAL dancers - as though you're slam dunk in the middle of a broadway show. Maybe its Chicago or Rent, but all you know is you're not in your comfort zone anymore and you left your ruby red slippers by the back door.
Your heart races until you see your first familiar face. Hey, it's KASHA, Salsa Burn instructor extraordinaire. And there's MEL, ready to remind you how to shake those hips like Shakira. You inhale your first breath. It's ok, you tell yourself. You're at J'adore Dance - a safe zone. And look! JESSICA, the original Naughty Hottie is also joining the class. Oh wow, and LIESA, too. You've never taken one of her classes before. This should be fun you tell SUE. (SUE fixes you with a murderous glare...)
But wait! There's more. Is that...?
No. It couldn't be.
But it is.
MEAGHAN is here?
You pinch yourself but she has not disappeared.
YOU: *mouth goes dry* I'm so excited to see you!
FORMER CRUSH CHEERLEADER M: I'm reading your blog. I thought I'd come see first hand.
The splotlight hones in on you in your
SUE: Looks like a good day for an exorcism.
YOU: *watching MEAGHAN'S hips circle with no warm-up at all* I agree.
Maybe it's lack of sleep from the previous night, or the sudden realization that you're surrounded by so much dance talent, but you're starting to get disoriented. Your dance GPS feels a little off kilter, your Meringue is flopping - your face has even taken on SUE's murderous glare.
You remind yourself that Salsa Burn is hard. That KASHA is supposed to work your butt off (it's not that she's mean, even though you're cursing her name today.) Beside you, BLAM PAM is dancing her heart out, and NATALICIOUS is working it in the front row (traitor!). To your left, SUE is dancing, too.
So you suck it up. And you dance.
You keep moving even when the steps feel foreign. You continue waving your arms in the air, careful not to smack BLAM PAM in the face, or SUE in the head. You sweat through MEL's Shakira routine, and giggle your way through KASHA's mash potato choreography (fun!). And you even grunt through JESSICA's grueling abdominal / butt workout, careful to keep your curses to a mutter in case she booty pops you into submission.
On the way home, you plot with SUE. And when safely in your living room, you strip out of your sweaty "dance" attire, pat yourself on the back and crack a beer.
No doubt about it - another week of Salsa Burn has kicked your butt.
The Book In My Bag Today: Ink Exchange, Melissa Marr