The Dancing Debacle. Spectacle. Failacle.

The Dancing Debacle. Spectacle. Spectacular mortification and ultimate failacle.
I tried the swing dancing business last Friday night. I went along, as instructed by the Internet, to a soirée in which debutants were apparently welcome, and apparently free. They were neither. Not only did you have to be enrolled in a course already, but you also had to have learned something at this course. None of which I knew, in advance of being the first person invited to dance, before the whole thing had really started. Or started at all, in fact. So I agreed, forewarning the man of course, that I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, and I just followed him around the floor, putting my feet slowly into different positions that I thought could pass as dancing. Later observations revealed that they could not. AT ALL. In front of Everyone. After we stopped this ridiculous walk around the floor, and a few more songs had passed (floor empty), the whole thing suddenly kicked off, and I realised what I was in fact supposed to have done in the first instance. In front of Everyone. It was a bad one. One or two late comers (who hadn’t seen my original performance) invited me to dance, but soon gave it up as a bad job. It didn’t take them long to spot that I was not going to quickly pick up the motor planning of ‘step step triple step reverse’. So after about a half an hour of hiding behind a pillar and a large glass of Orangina, I slunk off, defeated and debited to the tune of fourteen euro. They also informed me that no courses are available until January -despite having happily taken my €10 registration fee -and further Internet research suggested that no beginners courses will be running on my days off. I wrote what I thought was a friendly email explaining my situation and asking them if there was any chance they could fit me into the class that started two weeks ago, but got a prompt and abrupt response telling me that the course was already FULL and to look on the Internet for January classes. A big f**k off if ever I heard one. Bastards. I didn’t like them anyway. Okay that’s lies -I was completely taken by them and very badly want to be part of their gang, but for now I am sulking with them. And I have deleted their page from my Google history, in an act of private mutiny. About which they will never know, but if they change their minds about Thursday night courses in 2017, I might be glad of the covert nature of my vengeance. (Sock it to them Sarah. Just make sure they don’t know about it…)