Dancing

Is this once a week? Biweekly? Who knows. . .

I went salsa dancing last night. Well, I went to a salsa class last night. I think most of my 'fun money' next month is going to go to salsa dancing. Monday night, Thursday night, maybe Saturday evening / nights, too.

We'll see.

I went with a young woman who messaged me on a personal's site and we got along quite well. We ate dinner in a park and I had horrendous gas, due to having drank (drunk?) some coffee earlier in the day, and having eaten Indian food the night before.

I'm hoping my flatulence has blown itself out by this evening, when I have a card(s) tournament. ( We shall see, eh?)

Back to the park bench, the chatting, mostly about food and politics, which is fine for a first date. The walk to the dance hall was pleasant enough, discussing the difference between L.A. (mostly gang related) and Detroit (desperation) violence.

The salsa classes were, in point of fact, not salsa classes at all, but instead Ruida, which is functionally Latino square dancing in a circle. It's not line dancing though, there's everything right with line dancing too, just less touching than Ruida/Salsa.

Anyhow, That was an hour and a half or so of salsa, then maybe another half hour of free dancing; we stayed and watched the level 4, 5, and 6 classes, which were interesting, but not particularly hard looking, either. That said, I need to learn hand transitions like woa.

It's not even funny how little I actually know. I'm a high (haha, no) beginner. So, Thursdays is an intermediate lesson at the firefly club. Fortunately, I dropped my Thursday night class, and will now be salsa'ing instead -Much better for my soul.

So, we watch the upper level cats for a while, then walk back to her bike, and spend a fair few minutes saying good bye and good night and this that and the other.

She calls me as I'm on my way home, "So. I have your chocolate."

"Oh! Well, share it with your housemates."

"All of it?"

"Sure."

"You don't want any? I'd feel bad," She says. "I mean. I think I should bring it to you tomorrow."

I smile in the dark. I say: "Sure." We discuss secret agent handoffs, before I tell her where my office is, and she agrees to give me a call, to check that I'm in my office when she plans on dropping it off.

"Not all of it, though, just half. The other half you should share with your housemates." I make her count the pieces and there're eight, "So bring me four," I tell her.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, please!"

We laugh and I tell her where I work. We say our goodnights again and I laugh all round the round-about.