I have a confession to make. Every Monday night Ms. Sandwalk and I go dancing. We are taking beginner's social dancing at the local community center. This is the fifth time we've taken the beginners' classes.
After the dancing lessons we go with our friends to the pub and eat honey garlic chicken wings and French fries covered with cheese and mayonnaise. Alcohol is consumed.1
I'm finally getting the hang of the waltz. From time to time I can do the steps without counting out loud. There is, however, one small problem. According to Ms. Sandwalk I don't keep time to the music. Apparently I have no idea how to coordinate the steps and the beats. I'll have to take her word for it 'cause it seems okay to me.
As if I didn't feel bad enough, psa over on Canadian Cynic publishes a video proving that even birds can do it [Go Parrot, Go!].
This is really embarrassing.
1. It may sound like a bribe but I assure you that I would undoubtedly be going to the dance lessons even if we didn't visit the pub afterward. (Like I have a choice?)
No comments:
Post a Comment