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)
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.