Realising that my physical activities are limited to climbing the escalators in the tube and one pilates class a week, I decided to join my friend Joey at a Lindy Hop class.
I've always been a bit funny about partner dance classes. There is something a little bit sad about them. You feel like it's a place for social misfits gather to find a life. My snobbishness about this is totally hypocritical - I am a social misfit, and my life rarely makes an appearance. But, remembering sweaty palms and gum chewers in salsa classes, and people who count in your ear in ballroom dancing, I'm dubious about the whole idea. However, having a camp jitterbug enthusiast on your arm can only improve the experience. He's been sending me Utube jitterbug links ever since to help me feel 'fabulous' at the class.
How wierd is this? The class takes place at a synagogue. I didn't know that shuls were like church halls - you know, open to all sorts for evening activities. Does this mean there's a tango class at the local mosque? Anyway, there's no shortage of dancing partners aged from 17 to 90. It's funny. I have this gravitational pull attracting men over the age of 70 towards me. I always have, and my mum's the same. At first it seems harmless enough. I'm dancing with a charming octogenarian called Bill. He's telling me I'm a wonderful dancer and whirling me round. Then he's throwing me in the air which is quite exciting. Then he's saying 'I want to do acrobatics with you,' and I don't think he means good clean dancing fun with your clothes on. I laugh it off, and report back to Joey who thinks it's hilarious.
Next I'm dancing with a handsome young man who can dance (!)(gay) who is wearing a t-shirt with HACKNEY on it. It's all going rather well. I'm not moving really stiffly, nor am I wondering where to look or what facial expression to have. I do scream in his ear at one point, which he's not impressed with, but I did think I was going to fall over what with all the spinning. We dance to several tunes in a row, and then we're wondering off the dance floor towards my friends. It's chat chat chat, and then he says he's going home. We say bye, and carry on chatting and dancing. Half an hour has passed and I need a drink. Walking towards the water cooler I spot HACKNEY leaning against a wall hanging out on the other side of the room, and it dawns on me that HACKNEY thinks we're sad people and felt it was necessary to lie to us. He said he was going home in order to escape our hideous presences! I scuttle past pretending not to see him and report back to Joey who finds it hilarious. I am really rather gutted. How is this possible? Is it because I'm a rubbish dancer? Is it because he thought I was in love with him and was planning our wedding? Is it because he thought Joey fancied him and was planning their wedding? Now I'm wondering how I can go back to Lindy Hop, and I'm wondering whether there's another class somewhere else.
There is something about the politics of partner dancing. You see, after the class, there is 'free' dancing. This means that the women sit on chairs round the edges and the men come and ask them to dance. This has been happening for hundreds of years. Part of me is glad. I don't have to risk rejection and humiliation for the sake of practicing steps. I just have to sit and wait for someone to ask. But then, you can only choose to dance with those who ask you. And, some of these are horrible. One man has repeatedly made the same joke week after week. What happens is this: He comes up to you when you're chatting to a girlfriend. He puts out his hand to ask you on to the floor. He pulls you up, and at the same time sits himself down in your seat and turns to talk to your friend. I told him that you can't make the same joke twice. It isn't funny. Still I dance with him. Fuck knows why. For him, it's like a competition. He tries to trick you into dancing 'wrong'. You know, he'll set up a step on 1,2, and 3, and you'll join in - only he stops on the 4, and leaves you doing it on your own. After my last dance with him I sat down, and said 'cunt' to the girl next to me, who pretended not to hear.
I saw Bill at another class who got very excited that I was there, and told me I was a wonderful dancer (again) and that he wanted to do acrobatics with me (again). Only this time, as I was turning to leave, he said to me
'Listen, I really want to see Dirty Dancing at the theatre.'
Oh shit, I think. How am I going to get out of this?
'But it's too expensive'
Phew.
'So I thought, what about watching it on DVD?'
Oh no! I can't go to his house!
'Look, I got 2 for £5!'
What is he on about?
'Have one.'
Now that is wierd but not as awful as I thought it would be. But he has started leaving messages on my ansaphone asking when I'm going again. So now I'm avoiding HACKNEY and Bill.
I was supposed to go tonight, but Joey wasn't going, and I really can't risk any encounters on my own.
