Salsa Dancing

There I was cocooned In my room on my night off. I had kind of ditched out of the festivities that many soldiers were taking part in outside. There was a barbeque and a brass band playing, also spectators had gathered to watch volleyball. I however, was just glad it was finally my night off. It's how I gauge how much time has lapsed here. I don't think in terms of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and so forth... I think in terms of I've had 5 days off, so I've been here 5 weeks.

Anyways, I was settled in... watching some trashy teen drama that I haven't been able to stop watching since I've gotten here (I'm almost done with the entire series... 4 seasons down baby! WOOOO!). When I hear my door open, and my roommate comes in with a smirk and offers a “really” sincere “I'm so sorry....” I could tell that she wasn't all that sorry as our friend Cody followed behind her. Clearly, he was here on a mission and he had dragged innocent Weezy (my roommate) into his plot.

“No. No. No. I said no.” I said at the sight of him. I knew why he had come... in all my days of living, after those fateful dance classes offered at J&L where I learned that I was not only a graceless dancer, but that I could do a mean bear crawl... complete with the “rawring” you would expect to come out of said bear. Needless to say, I rarely danced after that. So, in recap, I don't dance. I'm an awful dancer. While I can appreciate the grace that my friends have while dancing (all of them were also in dance and two of them have continued to pursue their passion through college), I cannot, for the sake of others, allow myself to dance. It's just downright cruel.

Anyways, my dear friend Cody, had come by to teach me to salsa dance. Salsa dance... of all things. Every time he has asked, I have effectively thwarted his efforts. “I don't dance.” “I have to work.” “I have to bake cookie with my grandma.” “Tonight is my night to wash my hair.” “I have an ingrown toenail.” And clearly, I was not effective enough. Because, tonight, he sneak attacked me... and taught me how to salsa dance. I feel like if I were to step outside... pigs would fall from the sky. Hell (Iraq) will have frozen over.

Regardless, now I have to go to salsa dancing at Echo's (it's a bar without the alcohol that would normally make it a bar). I have run out of excuses.... and besides I don't think he was buying them anyways.