I have returned from my dance lesson at The Land of the Perky Bottoms. I was very apprehensive about it since I’ve had a rotten feeling in my gut for the past week. I hate confrontation. As a result, I decided to see how things seemed to be going before just blurting out how much I hated him when I left. It ended up being like I spoke to him, even though I didn’t. He just danced with me and started throwing all sorts of new figures in there. He then told me that I’m leaning too far back. I need to stay in line with my base foot, not the one prepping for movement.
Then he decided to work more on Tango. He asked if I was ok with that and it was as if a dam broke loose. I told him how I left feeling real bad about my dancing last week. His first response, “Was I a brat?” Of course I said yes. He wanted to know how he was bratty. I told him (way to gleefully). I told him how I felt hopeless when I left. He apologized, we hugged, and went on to have a great lesson. I learned several different Fan variations and a very fun hook where my leg grabs his from the back. I think he realized I have some pent-up aggravation with him and he changed it to a flick in front of my own leg. Hahaha.
I made sure to ask him what the plan was for next week. I don’t want him just winging it anymore. (I’m not for sure that he was, but I got the feeling of haphazardness a few times.) I want to know that he has a plan for me. So, next week we will be stepping up my Viennese Waltz game. I’m going to hold him to it.