Shake Your Booty

I decided post-divorce to get up off the couch and try something new.  I love watching “So You Think You Can Dance” so I thought, “Yeah, I think I can dance.”   If those D-list celebrities can manage to move and not look like a complete train wreck on “Dancing With The Stars” why can’t I?”

I looked up Arthur Murray Dance Studio and signed up for their introductory lesson.  It’s basically 25 minutes of sales pitch, five minutes of dance.  Of course, they don’t have any average guy give you the pitch and swing you around the dance floor.  Oh, no.

They had the perfect specimen for my appointment.  He was gorgeous and had moves I’ve never seen in a vertical position.  His name was Enrique.  I was in love.

After three minutes of a pathetic attempt at a salsa, he had me convinced I “showed real potential” to compete and “be a star”.  This could really be attainable, after all, if I signed up for their dance package that cost more than a year’s salary.

I have to admit, it was tempting, but his hotness could not persuade me.  The thought of bankruptcy and standing in line for food stamps in a glitter dress and heels was enough to turn me away.  For now, I’ll stick to watching the dancers on TV while I practice with my “inflate-a-date”.