Wednesday, October 06, 2004

I've posted before about my weekly streetdance classes, and went along last night as usual. Sadly Becky was off for some reason, so we had a stand-in. I had a bad feeling when I saw him - silly tattoos, hair gel, string vest and Bart Simpson socks - but I still went in.

Normally, we have a good combination of dance routine, abs work and stretching. It's hard going, but she uses mid-paced hip hop or rn'b so we don't burn out. Mr. Stand-In had different ideas. He made us watch him go through his routine, which total Sparky, the crap choreographer from Bring it On. Splits, high leg kicks and funky moves stolen from a Black Box video, all set to some 130 bpm high NRG song we didn't know. Uh oh. And did I mention that he had the stereo at top volume, but hadn't brought a headset so we could hear him?

20 minutes of hopeless flailing around later, all but three of us had walked out. One girl said "I can't figure out what you're doing, so I'm going..." to which he obliviously chirped "OK, seeya!!!!!"

For reasons unknown I felt badly for him, so I didn't have the heart to go. My goodwill vanished when he turned to me 10 minutes later and said "Maybe you'd better try it without the arm movements... right girls, dead funky and dead sharp!"

I didn't think it could get any worse, but then he made us warm down to Mariah Carey's "Hero". The second it was over, we legged it as he called out "Hope you had fun ladies, and put in a good word to Becky for me..."