My Rs and my hips are rolling at the speed of incompetent

I had a really bad idea about a month ago. A bad idea that unfortunately came to fruition by the forces of my own irritating self-will and heavily abused debit card. I took a workshop so I could teach Zumba. Eff my stupid ideas! Maybe you’re wondering what Zumba is? It’s just your latest aerobic exercise routine inspired by Latin dance…officially. Unofficially, it’s the current thorn in my uncoordinated, non-Latin side mainly due to the fact that I agreed to teach it at a local gym. Starting Tuesday. Cue to me coming down with a severe case of Tuesday Night Fever – where it’s never Saturday and no one mistakes my moves for John Travolta’s. Sigh.

Maybe if I use dramatic disco lighting no one will notice my sad moves.

So a lot of comments have been rolling around my house like Was I drunk when I agreed to teach this class? and Get your money’s worth from that workshop! but I ask you, what about my dignity? It may only be worth tens of hundreds of dollars, but dammit it’s mine. Not to mention the fact that the workshop lasted 8 hours! You know Shakira’s hips would be lying their asses off if they had to work it for 8 hours straight.

I don’t know that her hips are being all that honest. They’re probably dirty little liars!

We were instructed on the importance of giving the class a “party vibe,” which I think sounds great, but if I can’t pass out shots of Patron before class I’m screwed. I mean, my party vibe typically doesn’t consist of telling people to “shake their maracas” and be “Sumbalicious” (the “s” makes it more Latin, by the way). My party vibe basically consists of having one too many drinks, crying to Tom about my latest insecurity, and falling asleep in my party clothes. I know, it sounds like a REALLY good time, but I doubt this is what the class is expecting on Tuesday.

The one thing people may be expecting from me on Tuesday is tassle pants. What, you don’t know what tassle pants are either? Well, they’re only THE pant to wear while teaching or taking Zumba. I know this because at least 59 out of the 60 women at the workshop were all tassled up. Yes, I was the untassled one. Are you surprised? I just can’t bring myself to spend $70 on cargo pants with an elastic waistband whose claim to awesomeness is a tie hanging off of every pocket. Not when I could put that money towards important shoe purchases. I have my priorities and trust me tassles don’t make the long list, let alone the short one.

Hold up. I didn’t know they come in lime green.

Our instructor left us with this Golden Rule of Zumba: Do not give it all away in the beginning. The hell?! I don’t know what that means in life, let alone in the world of Zumba. Am I to allude to more complex pelvic thrusting that will come later in the dances? Is that Zumba-speak for “Don’t slut it up. We have a sophisticated reputation to uphold” Maybe it just means to keep it classy but go braless. Blast ‘em your nips but don’t let it all hang out. The latter is the strongest vibe I’m getting from that statement, but I’m just gonna play it by ear and go with my take on the following look:

This screams Party Vibe!