My Salsa Experience

A while back it was reported in the media that Robbie Williams had decided that he wasn't going to marry. I was surprised because I thought he was 'hot' to the majority of the female population around the world. They were probably queuing up to have sex with him and he didn't want to curtail the queue. Were there nice, sexy women queuing up for me ? No! seemed to be the resounding answer. I think I am quite unique but unfortunately I am also single and that is harder for me to deal with as I get older. When I am walking around the city, going through Trinity College or stepping over congregating bodies in Saint Stephen's Green, I grudgingly and disappointingly have to accept the fact that I am an uneasy single - maybe things will change soon. I hope so.

Anyway in an effort to move out of the single market I decided at one stage last year to take up Salsa Dancing lessons. I might meet someone! The advert for the lesson was pasted to a wall and, whilst waiting for a bus, I took down the number attached and decided to give the organiser a call. I was very excited about it and then found out it was approx E100 for only six lessons. I had a brief but friendly conversation with the man in charge and, after some deliberation on my part, decided to give it a go. I am going to meet the girl of my dreams, I thought, but unfortunately folks that is not how it worked out.

The lessons were due to commence every Monday evening between the hours of 8 and 10 but on the first night there was registration and this took up an extra half hour. Waiting outside I was eyeing up (yes I'm afraid its a male thing) the ladies. Most seemed to be in their twenties and then there were couples (married and casual relationships no doubt). I waited and waited and then eventually was let in to pay with my haggard notes. Cheques and cash were flying around and the instructor received the paper in good spirits - as my mother always says "He saw you coming!"

We were lead into the dance floor by the instructor, let's call him Neil (can't remember his real name). Neil had a microphone attached to his face and wore some fancy black and white shoes. He was friendly and everyone was having a good time. I sort of thought that there was a connection between Salsa and Sex but that is only part of it - it's bloody tiring stuff and after my first lesson I was half dead from all the activity. Any amorous thoughts rapidly drained out of me like the perspiration off my brow and "WATER QUICK" was all my brain could process. People who know me know that I usually talk a lot but was too knackered to gab at the end of the night and fled to bed, exhausted, when I got home.

By the second lesson I was also drained of energy but was sort of liking the 'left foot forward, right one back cha cha cha' routine. I was wondering did Neil have a speech impediment: he seemed to be saying 'cha cha cha' all night. I am a little shy about asking girls/women to dance but had to make the effort (Salsa is very much about couples) but most of the girls/women I danced with didn't appreciate me stomping on their toes and I didn't think my constant apologising did me any good either. I felt a bit pissed off, actually, however, there was one woman who I did enjoy dancing with. I think her name was Dierdre and she was definitely not of the sorrows.

Dierdre wasn't interested in taking any nonsense from me. "Don't worry I'll do the next dance a bit better" I said sheepishly looking for sympathy. "You bloody will!" she replied in a rather strict tone. Well I think out of all the lessons I participated in Dierdre was the best co-dancer. She managed to give me a metaphorical kick up the arse and made me feel that I could dance. If I had met more Dierdre's in my early life I probably would have been more confident in my self. She was brilliant. The following week, however, I looked in vain for her but she didn't appear. Her friends were present but the 'Prima Ballerina' didn't show up. This hit me hard as Neil was busy advancing through the agenda at an alarming rate! I got into a wretched state and skulked into the shadows of the seating surrounding the dance floor. I was so unhappy that I decided to finish the Salsa lessons and so I left and didn't return for the final two classes.

Well those were my experiences of Salsa dancing and I don't think I'll be trying the little I learned on 'Come Dancing' or anything of a serious nature. I did learn one thing from all the stepping around though: If I am ever going to get a 'squeeze' (horrible phrase, I know) she'll be someone who will not stand for bullshit. I am one of the most ill-disciplined men in the universe and, short of physical assault, I need to be whipped into action, and I am not making reference to S&M here.

No, I was always afraid of strong, hard women but my experience of the Salsa dancing classes has taught me that if I am to strike it lucky with the opposite sex it will almost certainly be with someone who is able to lay down the law and be able to administer a little discipline in me, in a nice sort of way, somewhat akin to Ozzy and Sharon but without the drugs. I may not be a good dancer but at least I now realise more about myself and others and for that alone I'm grateful that I got the chance to 'Salsa Salsa, cha, cha, cha'.