"Take Social Dance!" they said. "It will be fun!" they said.
Let me define Social Dance for you: a class designed to produce couples. NO JOKE.
Social Dance tradition mandates that when you say the prayer, you have to follow up with your name, your hometown, your major, something interesting about yourself, your idea of a perfect date, and your availability. Still not joking. After the person gives their awkward declaration of availability, the teacher then addresses all those of the opposite gender and says, "Did you all hear that? If you're interested in any of those things, this is the person for you!" Heaven help me when my day comes. And it inevitably will.
Social Dance is one of those classes that can either be really awesome or really mortifying. Or both, if you're lucky! Guess what. I'm lucky.
We always start with the Foxtrot, which isn't so bad, unless your partner is 2 feet taller than you. I'm standing there like, "Oh hey. Nice belly button." It's also ideal when they're not 1 foot shorter than you. I always wonder, "Do I have any nasty nose hairs? I hope he can't see up my nostrils. Oh gosh... do I have chin hairs? NOOOOOOO!!!" I smile and dance and try to tuck my chin into my neck, accepting the humiliation of multiple chins over the possible humiliation of a black forest residing in my left nostril.Learning the steps and moves is only slightly humiliating, as I step on my own toes. And then they expect me to dance with someone else?! I just crush toes everywhere. It's my new talent.
And then the music turns on.
This is the portion of class when you can really tell who has rhythm and who doesn't, and there is no hiding your inability to keep a beat. Unfortunately, if you're a guy who can't keep a beat, you are automatically in the bottom percentile on the girl's list of desirable dance partners. And if you REALLY wanna get low in that percentile, forget everything you've ever learned about dancing when asked to be free on the dance floor. Add that to not being able to lead, and you're instantly number 1 million on a girl's list. Good job, buddy! It's sad, but true.
Girl's have the ridiculously frustrating task of following the guy's every move. So when the guy's head is suddenly full of rocks, it just makes life SO MUCH FUN. Being the dominant female that I am, I just end up telling the guy what to do and I lead. Hooraaaaaaayyyyyyyyy.
The awkwardness of Social Dance stems from literally every aspect of the class. The people, the moves, the music, the self-sacrificial prayer... and yet, I keep going back. And I will continue to go back until I can finally dance with that one elusive attractive boy with a sense of style and decent rhythm. *Sigh* So unattainable. I guess I can stick with my 8 foot hunk of Idaho boy.