I Said A Hip Hop...

Tiffany and I took a hip hop dance class last night.

Before I left for work, I put my outfit on the bed for her approval: bootcut spandex, a tight tank top and an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt made to look vintage 80s that I bought brand-new for $12 at T.J. Maxx.

I left a note on the fridge:

"Check out my hip hop dance outfit. If it's okay, please bring to class for me. If not, pick me out another! :) "

Then I went to work.

Tiffany approved my outfit. I want that fact to be clear from the start. She approved my outfit and a similarly tight-fitting one for herself.

At the dance studio, we entered a room filled with girls who looked to be 5 and 6 years old. They were in ballet slippers.

"Are we in the right place?" I whispered to Tiffany.

We were not. Hip hop was a few doors down where we found a group of mostly more age-appropriate people, including a pair who looked as lost as us.

"I didn't even know what to wear!" I confessed, gesturing downward at my lycra-clad thighs.

"Me neither," the woman said. "My hip hop friend said to wear baggy."

I looked at her sweats, which hung off her hips, and then I turned a glaring eye to Tiffany.

I wish this blog post ended well. I wish after the class began I had suddenly been less white--more hip and less awkward hop.

But I didn't know a single move when I went into that class, and I didn't know a single move when I went out of that class an hour and 15 minutes later. I did learn to count more rhythmically: AND five, six, seven, eight AND one AND two...

"Does anyone have any questions?" the woman teaching the class kept asking. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt. I had left mine in my bag at the start of class, filled with false confidence in my spandex.

YES, I thought to myself in the back corner behind a middle-aged Asian man who had better moves than me and wore one of his sweatpant legs up around his kneecap. How about: Can you please slow down? Can you please show me that move 100 more times before you ask me to do it while watching myself in the mirror?

But I tell you. The class was fun.

Mostly funny.

But fun enough that I already know what I'll be wearing next week