I have a master plan. The details are in the pipeline but I have the end result in mind so the I can work on the rest. I want to be a contestant on Strictly Come Dancing. No you didn’t miss anything, I’m not a classically trained dancer. Nor am I a celebrity and yes, I realise that my tendency to do the running man will hinder my efforts. Like I said the details are slightly lacking. OK a lot lacking but I’ll get there.
Why I want to become a floaty princess dancer type
I’ve always enjoyed dancing (or my clumsy attempt at dancing) but a few years ago I discovered just how much. I had often found myself transfixed by dancers but one Thursday evening I was dragged along to Ceroc (mix of jive and salsa) by my beloved Mumsy. Once I’d gotten over the horror of finding my 17-year-old self being perved on by letchy old men, I found that I actually enjoyed it. The dancing that is.
Let me introduce the Hairy South African. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in years and tended to hang around with an unsavoury group, ‘The Neanderthals’ as I named them. Ceroc hosts many interesting characters and presents an excellent opportunity to people watch, one of my favourite sports (or as I affectionately call it, ‘watching the monkeys’). I’d observed that this guy would ‘pick’ only the best looking, super slim women to dance with, although he wasn’t age discriminate so I couldn’t complete dislike the prejudged view of him.
Feeling like Baby in that grinding scene from Dirty Dancing
Maybe it was the Universe’s way of teaching me not to judge but one night, Hairy South African guy asked me to dance with him. After observing him for a while, he represented more of a study than a potential dance partner so I was a bit shocked. Following the Ceroc mantra of never turning down a dance, I accepted, albeit rather nervously.
So I started out all bashful because I hadn’t been attending the classes very long and although I had been told that I was a good dancer, I had zero confidence in my ability and this guy however picky, seemed pretty good. Very soon I came to realise that he was in fact, an amazing dancer, putting me exactly where I needed to be, at exactly the right time incorporating all sorts of drops and lifts that made me feel like the sexiest of Dancing Queens, nay Goddesses.
At the end of the song he politely asked if I wanted to carry on, which I gratefully accepted. By the time we parted ways, several songs had passed, and I was one happy, sweaty, red-faced woman. I hadn’t just enjoyed myself, I was buzzing. It’s embarrassing to admit but I was totally turned on and my head was up in the clouds.
I had heard dance likened to another well-known physical activity (and it may have had something to do with why I felt like I did) but it wasn’t that. Although his dancing ability had been the main cause of my euphoria, the Hairy South African was also completely irrelevant. The way that dance made me feel was key; it was all about me. I felt sexy, sassy and any other word that describes a young woman who has just found her ‘bow chicka wow wow (thanks Lynx) for the first time.
So that’s where my love for dance really kicked off. I don’t know (nor do I care) why it makes me feel so good but I can be at my happiest when a favourite song comes on and I get to dance with someone who knows how to move. In fact I’m wondering why, I don’t do it more often.
Strictly just seems to embody that how , I’m reminded of how good it feels to dance with a good partner and that I, Kerry, boarder-line tom boy, joker and running man extraordinaire, can feel and even look feminine.
Sure the chance to wear one of those stunning, taylor made outfits attracts me but the main driving force behind my Strictly goal is the professional tutors. Yes they are gorgeous, toned adoniss type creatures, but I have my gorgeous Smelly Boy so that doesn’t really sway me. For me the attraction is being taught by one of the best dancers in the world and calling it a work commitment? Game on!
Forgetting something mere mortal?
While the above information may have interested you for a couple of minutes, it’s doesn’t provide any insight as to how I’m going to get into the spangly frocks. Many of my friends and family already know the tale but I think that I’ll leave you hanging until my next post and hope that you’re interested enough to find out.
As ever, please leave comments. I’d love to know what you think.