Back in the swing (God, strike me down for that ridiculous pun)

Back in High School, I had this deeeelightful boyfriend who used to go swing dancing with me.  And I’m not talking about some amature box-step shit, we were awesome.  Like, flips and throws and cute shoes and he wore a vest and a hat.  It was fantastic.  I LOVED every second of it, and it has been something that I’ve missed so very much.

About a month ago, one of my friends casually mentioned that she was taking a beginner swing dancing class with her husband in (LO!) Plymouth.  About 14 feet away from my house, in fact.  She said that the class was almost over, but that they were going to start a Swing 2 class when that one finished.  Boy howdy, you can imagine my excitement at the prospect, then my broken heart as I realized I didn’t know anyone who would take a swing class with me.   Bollocks, I tell you! 

(Aside:  listen, guys.  I’m going to tell you a secret right now.  LEARN TO DANCE.  It will automatically make you 135% more attractive to almost any girl in the world.  A guy who can dance is not only awesome but also in high demand.  THIS IS THE TRUTH.  And it doesn’t matter if you suck or you look stupid.  The fact that you are willing to try is hot.)

And then one night I was playing cards with some friends, and it was casually mentioned that one of them knew how to swing dance.  And I totally played that shit cool in the situation, but in my head I was going “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” and trying to figure out how in the hell I could make him come to Plymouth and take this class with me.  I thought I was going to have to hem and haw and do all manner of convincing, but it was really easy.  Using the medium of my generation, Facebook, I approached him thusly:

 

(this is the legit word-for-word conversation, by the way)

 

Me:  Dude- you need to come to Plymouth on Monday nights and be my partner in a swing dancing class.  Seriously.  You’ve yet to learn how awesome I am and that makes me sad for you.

Dan (and no, not the Dan that just had the baby, but one of his best friends, just to be confusing) (He’ll be Swing Dan from now on, k?):

dude, i thought you’d never invite me.  you’ll be amazed at how slightly above average i am at it, especially if the song is in three.
now that i don’t tutor on monday nights anymore (huzzah!) i can probably do it. let me know what mondays you’re thinking of going.

 

Me: Did you just say huzzah in a sentence and actually mean it? I think we might be soul mates.

Several of my friends are taking the class right now, but they are in a “swing 1″ level class (pshaw…amateurs!) and in a few weeks it switches over to swing level 2. I gotta tell you, it’s been a frighteningly long time since I’ve danced, so my pre-stated awesomeness may be a little less that I’d like to admit. Still though, I think I’m decent? (Dear god, please let me be decent still!) 

 

And that was that!  And this was about the 3rd time I had ever talked to him, so kudos to him for being willing to put up with me.  I guess my southern accent is more charming than I realize sometimes!

Last night we took our second class.  He’s really good.  I’m…not so much anymore.  I mean, I’m not terrible, but I am WAY below my high-school level.  There will be no flips in my future, especially since he’s moving to NYC in August to go to grad school.  That selfish jackass!

But until then, I get to look forward to dancing every Monday night.  Yay!