27
Feb
09

dancing, yeah.

There’s this hip hop teacher whose class I liken to a roomful of Rice Krispee Treats holding hands with the Spring line from Free People. Meaning, it looks incredible and dreamy, and damnit I want to be part of that. He teaches at Broadway Dance Center at the most inconvenient times, though, such as 3 p.m. weekdays. Not so possible with my rigid schedule, Bam. The other day, I was randomly looking through the schedule, and GUESS who was subbing another teacher’s class at 7:30 p.m.? I got a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach that could only mean pure, unadulterated kismet, so I went.

My classmates included, but were not limited to, a boy who has yet to learn the meaning of testicular descension, two French girls, and a class heckler. I chose a spot midway back, next to the small child and clear across the room from the heckler. I wanted to swoon without mediocre commentary, thank you.

I don’t want to oversell this, but the teacher was better than Jesus. Well, Jesus never danced (to our knowledge), but if he did, I think my teacher could have taken him. I’ve been taking hip hop for years and even taught it while in college, relying on a few made up moves such as “the baseball swing” and “the bowling ball.” In central Florida, such moves could easily pass as edgy. This class featured not one, but TWO skateboard moves that would have sent my prior students into fear-induced comas. And my students were troopers. They once stuck with me through a troubling phase in which I added “the slow motion run” to damn near every combination. That gets tired, not unlike how tired one would be if doing the run in real time. Yeah, I went there.

Anyways, the class was kind of awesome. Now I want to sneak out of work next time he teaches one of his 3 p.m. classes. My skateboard moves had real promise.

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