Swinging and Clinging

For all those who know me, or have read previous posts, they are well aware that my dancing is in a league of its own- so good, so awkward, so Sadie: however you describe it, it's something special.  My one main problem with dancing is the fact that I cannot follow choreography.  My slow reaction to figuring out what is left and what is right could be the source of this problem, but mostly I just can't figure out how to make my body look graceful.

Tonight, Julie and I went on a double date with a couple guys in our ward.  Where did we go? BYU Swing Dance Club.  My inability to learn new dance moves is incredibly inhibitory, but I decided to put myself out there and try it.  Luckily, my date was my good friend Evan, who is just as incapable with learning new dance moves as I am.  As the night went on, I felt like Evan and I were starting to get the hang of it.  We were going fast, were in sync with each other, and he could even spin me. Success.  In my mind I felt like we looked dang good:

How I think we looked swing dancing

How we really looked swing dancing

Sadly, I knew the limits of my dancing abilities, and my perception of how things were going was far from reality.

After a couple songs, Julie and I switched partners.  Julie's date, is known as "the Man".  He's smooth, dates a lot, and is just an all around cool guy.  Not to mention he is also Elder's Quorum President.  I had only formally met The Man once, and both of us had forgotten, so really we were just meeting now. 

The Man is a good dancer.  He was trying to play it cool saying that he wasn't good and hadn't really done this before, but I knew better.  I was positive this was not his first rodeo.  I tried to follow, but ended up being so lost on anything except a simple spin in and spin out.  

The Man was determined to teach me new moves.  Wrong move on his part.  The Man's favorite move includes spinning the girl behind him with one hand and reaching his other hand back for her to grab behind both of their backs.  He didn't explain this concept beforehand, leaving me trying to follow his confusing lead.  As The Man spun me backwards and extended his hand near his waist behind his back, I blindly reached and grabbed for his hand.  Only I DIDN'T GRAB HIS HAND.  In my confusion, I hadn't reached far enough, and I GRABBED HIS TUSH.  I had gotten my hands on the butt that belongs to a man, for all intensive purposes, I had only met 45 minutes ago.

Ladies and gentlemen, I think I just won the award for Awkward-Dancing-Creeper.  I would like to thank my parents, my friends, and most importantly my Dancing Skills (or lack thereof).

Needless to say, The Man and I didn't dance any more songs together...

--Sadie