It's Personal: Dancing

I don't dance.

I'm sitting here in the living room. Buddy's sitting on the ottoman staring at me. Cleo's scrunched between pillows, sleeping. My hands are cold. It's normal. My hands are always cold.

I've just returned from the other room with my New York Football Giants fleece blanket. No, it's not a snuggie.

I sip my Pitch Black IPA.

And there's something on the television. Most of you know that I'm not a huge fan of television. The last show I followed with any regularity by choice was West Wing. Oh, and what's on the television is a reality show. Gag me with a spoon...

I'm trying not to pay attention. I'm succeeding for the most part. But still I can't avoid the ridiculous drama, the terrible singing, the crotchety British judge, and Tom Bergeron.

You got it; it's Dancing with the Stars.

What's worse is that it brings back memories. And I'm not talking about an appearance on a ridiculous reality television show.

I was in college. Somewhere in the midst of my math education major phase. I had a steady girlfriend. Steph, of Paraguayan descent. And Steph, of Paraguayan descent, wanted to dance. No, not at a club. Nor at a wedding.

Buzz Aldrin dances. If it were anyone else, it would be a trainwreck. But this guy walked on the moon. So, he gets a pass.

She wanted to dance. Like ballroom dance. Me. And ballroom dance.

I've tried to forget that part of my life. With a memory like mine, I've almost succeeded. But every so often, I hear the female instructor rhythmically chant 'Tee' (pause) 'Ay' (pause) 'En Gee Oh'. And then it all comes rushing back. The waltz. The cha cha. The foxtrot. The tango. I enjoyed watching Steph. She had a natural talent for movement on the dance floor. I, on the other hand, dreaded every moment spent on the hardwood. Trainwreck is being nice.

I tried. I really did. But I had no rhythm. And the very fact that I dreaded it meant that I was doomed to fail before I had begun.

I think I'd be better at it now if I were to try it again. Because I understand that it's about having the confidence.

But don't get me wrong, it'll be a cold day in hell before I try it again.

Because I don't dance.