Dear Swing Enthusiast,
I’ve been cheating on my dance studio… in more ways than one.
During August, Apple Guy asked me to join him at a competing studio one night a week. For all my good girl ways, cheating on the studio that first night was pretty exhilarating. All new, even more intense men availed themselves to me. To them, it was as if I appeared out of nowhere, an advanced follow to try their luck with. Apple Guy kept his distance, so other men would scoop me up. And scoop they did! I felt like the belle of the ball and the hot foreign exchange student all at once. It was scary, but it felt outstanding!
Of course, I never went back.
Apple Guy failed to mention or realize that he was going on vacation to the obvious continent of Asia for the rest of August and we would never be in class together at our mistress studio again that month. Without a familiar face in the class, cheating on the studio suddenly really felt like empty, lonely, guilt-ridden cheating. Apple Guy went off to visit the girls of his dreams while I let my money go to waste one missed class at a time. I did, however, find a pretty amazing replacement for sexy alternative swing night.
And his name is GUY.
I met him online, my friends. I should be an online dating commercial. I subscribed to the site for only two and a half weeks. I made first contact with Guy in the first week. We were so clearly compatible that I referred to him as “my future husband” to my mother and cousin while home for the bridal shower (a phrase I immediately retired for both our sakes as soon as I realized it could technically be true). I was a little overwhelmed by what a full-time job online dating was turning out to be. So many people with whom to converse! But Guy’s emails were the only ones that didn’t feel phony or desperate to impress. Each and every one of them made me laugh, ladies. I couldn’t help getting excited at the prospect of meeting him in person. I was beside myself with nervous excitement when the time came…
My quick introductory coffee date with the delightfully nerdy-but-cool Guy turned into an eight-hour epic event, complete with dinner and impromptu make-out session for dessert. I learned many valuable lessons on the best first date of my life, such as never wear the chastity belt that is the Spanx Hide & Sleek Hi-Rise Body Smoother (complete with convenient pull-apart pee hole, ladies!) on a date with a guy you’ve been dreaming about kissing/ mauling and don’t try curry for the first time in your life on date with said dreamboat, since you’ll soon discover you’re clearly allergic!
Several random Bridget-Jones-esque debacles later, I found myself walking home late at night as if in a dream. I got on the phone with roommate Parker Pansy and rambled aimlessly about the palpable spark I felt when we kissed for the first time… and the explosion of kisses and wandering hands that I ended up having to pull away from despite every fiber of my being pleading with me to be a different kind of girl for just one night of my knee-locked youth! Parker insightfully advised me to cherish my current walk in the clouds. He said, “This is the feeling we are all chasing after. It’s always a surprise and it almost never lasts.” I knew he was right and I’ve done my best to take his advice.
My mother had a heart to heart with me about Guy recently. It turns out the woman who wanted me to get laid so badly, doesn’t want me to rush into any heartbreaking situations again anytime soon either. She recognizes my impulsive, passionate nature and just can’t help doing what she can to protect me from what she warns is the inevitable disappointment of being so easily blinded by love. I tried to assure her that I’d learned some valuable lessons about rushing into commitment and declarations of undying love. But still the Swing Mamma had gripes! She had one more key concern- one I fear will be the end of me. She said:
Sara, you tell everyone, via blog or otherwise, all of your personal, private business. How do you think Guy is going to feel about that? I just think you should be careful.
Well, he can’t say I didn’t warn him, folks. He read The Swing Diaries before we ever met and I told him he would be spared blog immortality if he only followed one rule:
Don’t come to Swing!
You may have guessed by the last several paragraphs that he’s broken the cardinal rule. Yes, I lured the poor boy to the studio last week. Muhahahaha! Like Cowboy Girl before him, we took free introductory salsa and swing classes on Friday, followed by student and teacher performances, featuring Woody Bellagamba’s new swing opus. At first I was nervous I had set Guy up to hate dancing, but when the swing instructor taught us a simple hand changing men’s turn, my shy Guy came to life! Guy is pretty close to getting his black belt in the particularly graceful martial art form that is Aikido. Something about the grip on my wrist as he switched hands behind his back reminded him of the grip on the wrist of an Aikido opponent who’s arm he was about to break. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, ladies?
HOT!
After the fantastic studio performances (which included getting to sit beside Peggy!) Guy and I hit the practice session and took his 3 moves out for a spin. Some friends, including an adorably inebriated artist-by-day/ swinger-by-night who we’ll call MICHELANGELO, asked me to dance, giving me an opportunity to show my moves off to my new friend, despite an inexplicably bad case of stage fright. Michelangelo had felt my absence earlier that week and I confessed I had skipped swing class to spend my night with Guy. All my friends could tell I was on a date that night at the studio and affectionately teased me about it. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer and warmer with embarrassment. I liked Guy so much that I suddenly wanted to protect our budding relationship from the gaze of others. Don’t get me wrong! I was having fun, but, feeling my worlds collide, I rather abruptly suggested we make our exit. I wanted him all to myself.
I realize it may seem like I’m disregarding Mom’s warning, so blatantly writing about my new beau. But I always take care of the readers of my blog as they enter the storyline. (If you read carefully, you can pinpoint the exact moment I started writing about Apple Guy with the understanding that he might actually be reading it.) So, Guy never needs to worry about slander… well, not much. It might also be a helpful tool for any oblivious straight male to have such a specific doorway into the female psyche, chalk full of helpful hints (like: cough- text me to make sure I make it home safely late at night if I don’t stay over- cough, cough- it greatly increases chances of me staying over in the future- end cough). All men should be so lucky!
It’s Labor Day weekend and I’m sitting at my computer alone in the city in the middle of the night. Guy has gone home to suburbia for a barbecue with the family and I have spent the night yet again cheating on the studio at the city’s premiere lesbian dance club. I know what you’re thinking. Poor Guy! He leaves me alone for three days and I’m back to my old ways again. Despite this entry’s entire premise, I am not the cheating sort. I could never kiss, snuggle or get busy with more than the one special person of my choosing at a time.
But, ladies and gentleman, I can dance with every Tom, Dick and Harriet that glances in my general direction no matter what!
So, for anyone who fears that Guy might be the beginning of the end of The Swing Diaries, let me assure you I’m not going anywhere. There may not be swing love or, god forbid, swing sex (no change there) for the time being, but there will always be swing dancing!
Yours Truly,
-Sara
