TKO Guy Who steps out with his baby (Guest Post by Muscles!)

I’ve been after Muscles to write a guest post for me ever since the beginning of this blog — I mean, come on, dude’s like the Warren Buffett of cool — but there was a little problem: there’s nothing Muscles is afraid to do. He’s totally That Guy. You know, the one who can somehow be a Shakespearean actor and public Warhammer aficionado and not get razzed once about it. Probably because dude could punch out a bear. It took some doing, but he finally found an activity squarely outside his comfort zone…

NTKOMuscles: The kind of guy who convinces himself that failing to learn swing will be so much less mortifying than failing to learn tango was.

I am: willing to lunge around naked in a 40-minute play with no words, no music, and no embarrassment.

I am not: able to make my feet jump and jive on command.

The Scene: A church basement in New England College Town where Justice had “convinced” me to go and take a quick, painless swing dancing lesson with her and her friends Karma and – I’m not as good with the pseudonyms as TKOG – Really Good Dancer Friend.  I was wary of the venue, since the only thing I can imagine being more awkward than trying to learn something physically challenging in a group is doing so under the eye of a judgmental deity.

Dancing is sexy if you do it right, you know?  At least, that’s the way they make it look on “Strictly Come Dancing,” which is Britain’s version of “Dancing with the Stars.”  I would like to be able to dance well enough with Justice to inspire everyone around to race off and make passionate love.  I don’t think that’s asking too much.

The preamble to this story is that about a year ago, Justice innocently suggested we try tango lessons.  We could get four beginner lessons for free at her graduate student community center so I readily assented, not having participated in partner dancing since mandatory middle school square dancing in PE.  After three lessons I was singled out for “special attention” during the fourth lesson and promptly bolted from the room, extricating Justice, but leaving my dignity behind.

I was trepidatious about dancing again, but RGDF invited us to try swing, and we were trying to help Karma scope out potential dateables; I was also promised a drink after the proceedings.  Thus I was convinced, and the old adage rings true: “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice and you must be my girlfriend.”

If you’ve ever been to one of these gatherings, then you’ll know that there’s no point bringing a date, since you’re instantly separated as everyone charmingly changes partners for each song.  Dance instructors have decided that everyone must learn just enough during one exchange so that on the next song you can forget it all while trying to cope with your new partner’s lack of rhythm/body odor/hairy growth/hungry stare.  Being forced to change partners while learning a dance is like speed dating while learning how to talk.  How anyone manages to learn anything more than “so I think my right leg goes here.  No, not your right, my right and your left,” is beyond me.

Once the lesson was over, the experts showed up and the male beginners were shooed off the dance floor.  It turns out that girls can look like pros with no experience, but boys need years of training to lead.  Luckily, all the experts were skeezy old men in Hawaiian shirts and fedoras, so none of us young bucks felt threatened … at all.

I did get that drink I was promised, but I think it should probably have come before the dancing, rather than afterwards, along with two or three more.

The Verdict: Can I say dancing is for me?  No.  Can I say I’ll do it again?  Well, if I were single, there’s no way in Satan’s underpants I would try dancing again.  However, on a sunny day a few weeks after the dance lesson, Justice and I ended up on a grassy hill overlooking New England College Town, and we busted out a few steps of the swing and, just for kicks, the tango.  It was momentary, it was fleeting, but it was beautiful.  Why do men do anything?  Yes, I’ll go dancing again because I can share it with someone I love.

Tagged as: awwww lovers in love totally make me want to vom, dance, dancing, new england college town, schmoop, seriously at this point i'm kind of running an amateur dance blog, swing, tango