Why in the hell am I taking dance lessons? I'm assuming that's the question most of you have right now, because I'm so manly. Dance lessons don't really jibe with the rugged nature of my usual pursuits, which typically center on eating hot food and dismissing bands for bullshit reasons. That's all work stuff, though, and I definitely didn't do it for work. I haven't done anything work related that required me to move for any extended length of time in at least 10 years.
No, I took dance lessons for one reason ... love.
Not the love of dance, or anything wacky like that -- romantic love. My girlfriend really wanted to take dance lessons, and I really want to make her happy, so that means I'm dancing.
As you can see here, I'm as surprised as anyone.
As luck would have it, when this idea came up, we were living right around the corner from the Dance Doctor, the most authoritatively named dance studio on the planet.
For when your dance moves are the wrong kind of sick.
We've since moved, so that information is useless to you now, crazy bastards of the world. It was super useful to me at the time, though, because it meant learning to dance wouldn't interfere with my commitment to driving in Los Angeles as infrequently as possible. That's my kind of activity.
Besides, there's no one else I'd rather dance with. There's no one else I would dance with. I have history on my side when I say that. I love her a lot, and that comes in damn handy during dance lessons.
More on that later. For now, let's talk about the other most important thing to keep in mind.