Friday night zumba sessions are something I lamely like to think upon as parties, I love them so. As with most classes we enjoy, this has much to do with my teacher, Sabrina. She may not run as high-intensity a class as some (a criterion for good zumba), but she is incredibly skilled, inventive and friendly, and I always head home feeling I've been a part of something. That's right, when you're out with your mates on a Friday, I'm dancing at a gym where noboby knows my name and the instructor is paid to be nice to me.. Because it makes me feel 'special.'
In any case, I was excited, as usual, to be heading to Zumba, last Friday. I didn't even let it annoy me when a clearly unusual woman impinged upon my dance space to ask, "Is this Zumba?" With her unkempt hair and mismatched clothing, socks pulled over her tracksuits to complete the look, I thought if her dance skills were like her dress sense, she might need the spot in the front row. My good spirits were only shaken when a different instuctor walked through the door. I quickly assessed the newby and though I remained vainly hopeful, the prognosis wasn't good. She wore bright wristbands and a pointy, blue croptop, like a colourful, unco version of 80s Madonna. Her bronzed, perky faced was topped with long, scraggly hair that was pinned at the fringe in such a way, it gave the impression of mullet. Despite a young daughter in tow, she had a fabulous belly, which led me to hope, "She must have mad dance skills to have stayed in shape.. Right?"
Without acknowledging the class, New Teacher fiddled with the sound system for an uncomfortable length of time, her daughter occasionally intervening to give her some pointers. Meanwhile, a second odd gym member arrived and again, despite the vastly vacant dance floor, stood right beside me. The assumption that she was a normal person and simply hadn't noticed me was dispelled when she turned briefly to look at me, then nevertheless held her spot. When she turned a second time and rudely stared, I took the opportunity to warn, "I may ending up whacking you, there," which was indeed the passive-aggressive threat it sounded. By her indiscernable mutter and otherwise stationary response, I was left to presume she would move once the class had begun.
When the class finally did commence, I was able to confirm the third weirdo in the room. New Teacher not only struggled with the choreography, but had very little grasp of the actual moves. The regulars and I were able to elaborate from experience, but I felt sorry for those less familiar to the class. Now, not every dance teacher has creative pizazz, but it is rare for even one student to outdo them for skill and timing. It seemed to me on Friday that not only were most of the students better than the teacher, but she seemed to be looking to us to lead her! I was cruelly amused by the isolated sight of the woman who had taken my place in the front row, when she moved closer to the stage to emulate a particular move; the teacher was reaching out toward the class and Strange Lady reached back toward toward her, so that for a moment it looked like they were the only two weirdos in the room, beckoning to one another. As for my other spot-stealing friend, she turned to me mid-class and asked, "Do you want to move into the front?"
"No thank you! I'm happy here, but there are plenty of other spaces." Honestly.. I fortunately didn't have to tolerate her for the entire class, because even she was unimpressed by our fill-in and left early.
Zumba is a generally sensual dance, but as I watched New Teacher's awkward movement, I tried to pinpoint a good description of her incompatible style. She had a Barbie-like body, but just like a Barbie who had come to life, she was ironically and comically stiff as a board. She also struggled with the sound technology, often referring to her daughter when she needed to change a song. I had also thought she moved a bit like a 6 year old who had made up a dance to show her parents, so this reliance on her daughter gave me another theory - It was Freaky Friday! Perhaps mother and daughter had a classic body switch and now the daughter had to keep her mother's day job, hence the little girl coming along to assist. There you go. Mystery solved.
Now, look, I may have sounded a little harsh, but I do look forward to Zumba and I don't think it's fair to employ teachers who are just so far below a reasonable standard. Had I not been amused by New Teacher's attempts at dancing, I might have left early with Weirdo #2. We could've gone off and sniffed glue together, or whatever it is that causes her to dance right on top of people. That probably would've given me some interesting stories, too, so I was winnin', either way.
