Last night I went ballroom dancing for the first time in over a month. It was nice to have Nino call a couple times to check on me to see why I haven’t been going. I thought that was really sweet, so much so that I have affectionately name him Uncle Nino. I even decided to sit at his table last night. Yeah, just like church, we all have our favorite table to sit at, but last night, I made a move to Nino’s table. We danced most of the night together as there weren’t many people in attendance due to the weather (thunder storm earlier) and it being the summer when a lot of people are away.
I did have a chance to dance with Tony, who has returned since breaking his hand a few months ago. I enjoyed dancing with Pat, too. He doesn’t know any of the dances, so we do more of an impromptu contemporary thing. We kind of follow each other and make it up as we go, and yet people enjoy watching us because I always get compliments and of course I can see people watching us. The woman sitting next to me at Nino’s table asked me if I have ever taken dance lessons. I thought she was going to tell me that I need to take lessons or suggest that I should, but instead, she told me that I dance very well after I told her that I’ve only taken beginner lessons.
I honestly need to take lessons to improve, especially since most of the people at this particular dance venue don’t really know ballroom dances, which means I’m not using the little “skill” that I do have. So, why do I dance there? I dance there because believe it or not, these men, who are old enough to be my grandfather, are the only men brave enough to ask me to dance. I used to go to other places and I would sit most of the night because nobody would ask me to dance. If you could inside my heart and see how much I truly LOVE to dance, then you would understand how disappointing and painful it is to go out dancing only to sit and watch all night. So, I go to the place where I know at least one person, Nino, will ask me to dance.
So, to summarize, I danced enough that I had to hobble to my car at the end of the night. When I used to dance in NYC, it was only considered a “good” night if my shirt was soaked from sweating and my feet hurt. Now, it’s only a “good” night if my feet hurt at the end of the night. The sweating comes too easy since their AC doesn’t work very well. 🙂
So, since I haven’t share much in the way of ballroom dancing, not even videos of Nyle DiMarco dancing, I will share my favorite Waltz routine by Mayo Alanen.