Not-So-Dirty Dancing

The first of our "10 Weeks 10 Dates" guest blogging at HotDateIdeas.com


J:
When given the challenge of going on 10 dates in 10 weeks with my boyfriend of almost two years, Zane, I first thought “well at least it locks him down for another couple months” and secondly thought “what a perfect way to mix up our routine of just sitting in front of the television.” Now don’t get me wrong, we aren’t very boring people, but we do enjoy our comfort zone just fine the way it is. My idea of wild is going for sushi instead of pizza. Zane’s idea of romance is finding a video game for 2 players. We were in need of some hot dates.

Z:
Julie and I try to make a point of going out regularly on dates. Over the past year or so we have each had our struggles in finding jobs so we are deeply ingrained with ideals of being frugal. Often times we would consider walking down a favorite street or splurging on a particular kind of junk food to constitute a “date.” Anything to break up the weekly schedule of TV shows we are enslaved to.

J:
Being the initiator of most of our more daring outings, I instinctively started going through the site to pick and choose what I thought would be fun for us. Zane had agreed to participate in the 10 week challenge so he was at my mercy and couldn’t back out of something new to instead go see Marmaduke in IMAX. Ironically my biggest complaint in our relationship is that I’m always wearing the pants, but of course I’m the one who’s taking them out of Zane’s drawer and putting them on. Maybe this challenge would benefit from a little role reversal, which for most would mean the opposite, but for us means I have decided to become a woman! The first step to womanhood? Learning to follow a man’s lead…

Z:
For our first outing as HotDateIdeas correspondents, Julie and I sought out a simple and cheap idea that many would likely write off as being too far outside of her or his comfort zone. Ballroom dancing lessons.

J:
Dance class has always been intriguing to me, and it’s been tricky to find a way to justify us going without having some sort of looming reason *cough* wedding *cough* or just our biannual audition for Dancing with the Stars. I think deep down I was ready to pull my baby out of the corner and dance on a log with some hungry eyes. Little did I know our adventure would be less of a sexy Dirty Dancing and more of a virtuous Footloose.

Z:
Dancing is an activity that Julie has tried to coax out of me on numerous occasions to no avail. Apparently watching me do the dishes to “Ms. New Booty” isn’t enough excitement for her.

JZ:
Over the years, we have found that the single best resource for free stuff and events is somewhat unsurprisingly Craigslist.org. They have websites for almost every corner of the country and their murder rate has significantly decreased in the past couple of months, I think. Lo and behold they had all sorts of listings under classes, and sure enough, there was a free ballroom dance class.

Z:
Like animals and ottomans in the past, Julie took it upon herself to scour the ‘list and signed us up for our first “Hot Date” before alerting me. I had taken ballroom/salsa-dancing classes in college, as an unsuccessful attempt to meet ladies, so the idea wasn’t too off-putting to me.

J:
Now, if we had been a little wiser we should have signed up for a salsa class, it probably had a little more heat. Word to the wise, think about what type of vibe you want to get from your outing before signing up. Sexy passion? Salsa. Milkshake at the ice cream parlor? Ballroom. Shotgun wedding? Line dance.

A couple exchanged emails with the anonymous organizer and we were signed up for a hot free date at 1pm on a Sunday. Rawr.

Z:
According to the brief Craigslist description, and the vague dialogue between Julie and the mystery dance poster, we really had no idea what we would be in store for. For those of you who know us well (as in, has ever read our blog. Namely the post about our first year anniversary) you would know that we are gluttons for punishment. As someone who gave a bit too much consideration into the offerings of being a male model by some strange middle-aged man on the street, I don’t often look before I leap when attempting to make myself more adventurous. Fortunately for your incumbent date experts, our experience turned out rather wholesome this time around.

J:
The anxiety was high as we boarded a subway to go into the city to go to a building we never heard of before and partake in some brand new event. Was this going to be a tiny group gathering? Would we have to dance with other people? Were Bob Fosse and Martha Graham just trying to get us to their apartment to swing? We had no idea and that was half the fun/terror.

Z:
Seeing the Manhattan Center quelled some of our nerves, since it wasn’t some small dimly-lit apartment above a Laundromat but rather a large, fancy theater. As we passed an eclectic group of people exiting the elevator our imaginations began to run a little more rampant with much more grandiose imagery. Were we to be two of a few hapless suckers standing in the center of a giant classy ballroom while being barked at by a thickly accented man in a unitard?

J:
We entered the fancy building right near the famous Macy’s on 34th Street and road the elevator to the “Grand Ballroom.” It felt legit until we arrived and saw a very motley crew of folks sprinkled about a giant carpeted ballroom as burly crew men struck an elaborate multimedia set on a big stage. Uhhh?

Z:
Entering the ballroom struck us with feelings of awe and confusion as it was nothing like what we anticipated.

J:
I saw young girls in flip flops and no one seemed to be coordinating anything. Were we just bamboozled?

Z:
The herd meandering around could not accurately paint a clear picture as to what we were about to undergo. To the right, there was a concession stand displaying rows of stacked plastic cups, a single coffee canteen and a large cardboard billboard picturing a young boy looking upset. A massive stage was the focal point of the room with a baby grand piano and two large white projection screens. All around us were clusters of people musing over whatever great experience had just ended.

J:
After nervously wandering about (and secretly being relieved that we didn’t have to dance and could go home) I asked a security guard if this was supposed to be a ballroom dance class. He said yes, it hadn’t begun yet but we were indeed in the right place. Crap.

Z:
Were we here just in time for the dance portion of the “let’s feed the needy” convention? Why are some people eating pizza? Don’t you think that haggard little boy would like some pizza? As my mind flooded with trivial ponderings one man stepped forward to begin the show.

J:
A man came over the microphone to tell us it was time to begin. Eagerly Zane and I met eyes and then we were told to have ladies on one side, men on the other. Excuse me?

I began flashing back to 8th grade and standing against a wall at the school formal, hoping someone would ask me to dance. The room felt huge as I could barely see Zane’s facial expressions in the shadows of his face. Did he have “what the heck are we doing” eyes as well?? There was this sense that people sort of knew each other and the fancy event prior to class had yet to be explained, I saw Zane make a friend on the testosterone side, but the estrogen half seemed more occupied with which cute boy they’d get to waltz with.

Z:
Right off the bat the man explained how this was the last session before “graduation.” Without doing a thing we were commended on our great efforts and those of us truly striving to be all we can be may move ahead to try out for the competition. As with most things I chalked these somewhat odd remarks as me just not listening closely enough. He introduced who would be our instructor for the evening, his lovely talented daughter… from Harvard.

J:
This fatherly figure began to talk about the importance of dance and respect and gender roles. How his fancy dancer daughter is so great and how she’ll teach us to be great too.

Z:
As a senior at Harvard, she is one of the top dancers at the Harvard ballroom dancing team. Did you know ballroom dancing is the largest competitive club at Harvard, for Harvard students? Did I mention she goes to Harvard?

I was beginning to wonder whether this was the opening speech for a dance class or college orientation.

J:
He went on to tell how keeping distance is important and proper touch is key to a beautiful cooperative dance between a man and a woman. I remembered in 6th grade when we were taught square dancing (yes, I grew up in a hick town) how all the boys used it as an excuse to feel which girls were wearing bras and which ones didn’t need them yet. Agreed, proper touch and respect are key.

Z:
The operative word throughout the two and a half hour course was “respectful.” There is nothing wrong with being respectful, I respect Julie very much, but when looking for a hot date idea “respectful” isn’t often one of the words you’d typically punch into Google.

J:
He threw in some terms for organizations I wasn’t all too familiar with and then I started piecing it together. We WERE in the middle of Footloose.

Z:
Lo and behold we were amidst a youth group directly after their service. I can’t really tell whether being around teenagers, who have not been allowed to touch anyone of the opposite sex until now, sparked any flame between Julie and myself. In the eyes of most of our dance partners Julie and I were considered as two close friends or better yet… siblings.

J:
We learned some steps and then the boys had to pick a girl to practice with. It really felt like speed dating, but with a sexist vibe. Girls anxiously stood there while the men crossed the length of the room and politely asked “May I have this dance?” Was I allowed to say no? I could only think of poor Zane having to work the nerve up time and time again to ask some stranger to have her toes stepped on. If it weren’t for me approaching him in the first place, we wouldn’t be together today. (I’ll save that tale for another hot date blog) Maybe this wasn’t about me becoming a woman but both of us gaining more confidence. So in the end, Zane and I danced with a combined total of a dozen people.

Z:
I can’t say I really enjoyed pairing off with strangers. Not being a fan of chit chatting I labored through pleasantries of “Where are you from?” and “Why are you here?” It was nice seeing what stage different people were at; to go from an older woman who is incorporating moves they haven’t taught us yet, to dancing with a girl still audibly counting.

J:
We’d seek each other out partway through to compare notes and see each other’s progress. I’d give him inside scoop like we were FBI agents. “Pssst we’re in the middle of a church’s youth group.” Next time around “I think this girl is trying to convert me.” “Someone just asked if you were my brother!” “The group is only comprised of 18-21 year olds!” I’d learn something new each time my partner changed. Luckily I had no trouble being asked to dance. I was like a cougar compared to these boys. But it didn’t make it any less nerve wracking. I think I left sweaty palm imprints on everyone’s shirts and noticed a couple people wringing out their hands after my hearty handshake goodbye.

Z:
The thrill of the unknown did create some excitement during our date. As avid people watchers we were treated to a plethora of sights to nudge one another over. Leaving the center we were filled with stories of awkward moments and speculation about how it had all come to be.

J:
It was neat growing my skills a little with the help of strangers and then reconnecting with Zane and noticing such instantaneous improvements! We may have both been beginners, but by the end we were pretty darn good. We learned the Cha Cha first and the Waltz later on. The class lasted almost 2.5 hours and it was the biggest workout I’ve had in a while! After the Cha Cha I gave in and kicked off my heels and did the rest of the class barefoot like the tweens around me. In the end I was pooped but felt very accomplished. Zane and I had developed a new skill, and it felt like a new secret language of dance just between the two of us (and a few dozen Christian children).

Zane’s Review:
In terms of being a “hot date” I found that learning to dance (particularly ballroom dancing) is best for couples who have been together for a long time. Abiding by the rules, you are only allowed to dance with someone once before you take up another partner, so any couples looking for a fun “get to know you” activity should probably look elsewhere (unless of course they are looking to “get to know” other people). As an experienced couple, learning a skill together (together, meaning in the same room) is very beneficial.

You will be able to make eyes at one another from across the room, which can be romantic for some. For Julie and I, it was more of a “What is going on? Can you come over here?” Our experience may not have been particularly “hot” but it was a valuable afternoon that left us with the skills to spice up any party situations thereafter. As for an exciting outing with your honey, the payoff is more long term.

For new couples, I give this 3 “looks like she and that stranger are having more fun on this date than I am” out of 10.

For couples who have exhausted all of the “get to know you” conversations, I give this 7 “well at least I’m not stepping on her feet” out of 10.

Julie’s Review:
I wouldn’t say it was a “hot” date because it involved half of a middle school, but it was adventurous. Zane and I compared notes and agreed it’d be a great way for our single friends to meet new people. Like speed dating, but less sitting down. You have to be pretty secure in your relationship to just part ways and go off dancing with a bunch of strangers for an afternoon, but it is nice to meet new people.

It gave me a little bit of that new relationship butterfly tummy when I’d catch a glimpse of my cute guy across the room intently trying to get the steps right. Also, dancing together as adults is an exciting activity, one less often enjoyed except at weddings or boisterous clubs. So having an afternoon of light conversation while waltzing across a room was pretty neat.

I really enjoyed the change of pace and as we walked back to the train with our tired wobbly legs I couldn’t help but smile and softly whisper “1…2… cha cha cha” with each stride. (8.5 out of 10)