salsa hurts

i went salsa dancing last week… twice.

wednesday i went with a guy named ricardo. “lauren laughs” regulars will understand the humor in this small coincidence. anyway, ricardo took me to a place that starts with lessons before moving to just plain dancing. we did the first (beginner) lesson. easy… a tad boring. we asked one of the instructors if we could do the intermediate lesson too. she hesitated and said yes, but just to sit it out if we felt it was too advanced. psha. we rocked the intermediate class so well that the same instructor walked up to us later and asked us to audition for the advanced class that will be starting later this month: “just throw something together.” okay. maybe…

i danced with the other instructor at one point, a man in pointy white shoes (mandatory for all male salsa teachers). sadly, i stubbed my toe on his shoes, breaking my toenail and spewing blood everywhere. that was fun. i really need to invest in salsa shoes.

but you can’t let a broken toe nail keep you on the sidelines of life. no sir. thursday night i was back at it, only with a group of latinos. (ricardo is not latino… well, he’s half… but it’s a repressed half). anyway, my new latino friends all speak spanish. it was great to be in that environment again, and i understood everything, i just kept responding in french. shoot! till a moroccan guy joined us, then i had a french buddy. oh, the woes of a multi-lingual lover. still, i hope to hang with (and eventually hold a coherent conversation with) these new friends every once in a while, if only i could get used to the festivities starting at midnight.

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