Salsa Dancing

Have you ever gone to a nightclub wearing yoga pants, a tank top, and tennis shoes?  Of course you haven't.  That is not what you wear to a nightclub.  You wear a sexy dress, high heels, and approximately one gallon of make-up and hairspray.

That is, unless you're me.  Then you go the tennis shoes route.

Right now I'm visiting my dad in Boise, Idaho.  He's got an awesome man cave basement apartment and is having fun exploring the city.  I was so excited to come visit him because we always have a blast together, and I have not been let down.  When I first arrived on Saturday, he said, "Hey, want to go take Salsa dancing lessons?  I've got tickets!"  Of course I wanted to go.  That sounded like a great time.

So my dad and I got ready to go out to this "dance studio" to take dance lessons.  I put on dance class clothes, thinking that would make sense if we were going to DANCE LESSONS.  My first warning that something was amiss came when we got to The Knitting Factory (yeah, that's the name of the place - "The Knitting Factory." Strange).  I walked in the front door and got asked for my ID.  I was pretty surprised that they needed my ID to take a dance lesson.  Actually, I didn't even have it with me and had to go back and grab it.  Once I had my ID to give to the bouncer lady, she let me into the club.  I'm not sure why...she should have told me to go home and change.  Oh, well.  I guess they had a pretty lax dress code.  My dad and I immediately went up to the Skybox, since we had VIP tickets (go Dad!).  From there we could look down on the dance floor and see everyone dancing.  Let's just say they weren't dressed like me.

At first I was mortified.  I thought, "Oh my goodness, I can't believe how weird I look."  Then I realized that I'm never going to see any of these people again, and it was kind of dark in there anyway, so I was probably good.  I took my hair out of its pony tail, slapped on some lipstick, and decided I was sufficiently sexy.  My dad and I people watched for a while before they made the announcement that salsa dancing lessons were about to begin.

We made our way to the dance floor and watched the leader demonstrate the first few steps for us.  Right before it was our turn to try, my dad turned to me and said, "Oh yeah girl, we got this shit."  Ummm...I'm not sure at what age a kid is old enough for parents to swear in front of them, but I'm not that old yet.  Ha ha.  Oh well.  We started practicing the steps, and we were actually pretty good!  My dad's an awesome dancer.

Suddenly, I noticed Salsa Barbie and her fat boyfriend.  Salsa Barbie had her hair teased up into a blonde cloud around her head with a giant red flower above her left ear.  She was wearing a skimpy red and black dress-like-item.  I think I might actually have a similar item...but I got mine from Victoria's Secret.  Anyway, I turned around, and Salsa Barbie was standing there simultaneously grinding and MAKING OUT with fat Ken!  Eeeeeeewwwww!!  I pointed them out to my dad, and we both busted up laughing.  I may not know how to salsa perfectly, but I'm pretty sure they were doing it wrong.  We watched them for the rest of the night, but they never even tried to do any of the right steps.  I may have been in yoga pants and tennies, but I think I fit in better than they did!

All in all, it was a great night dancing with my dad.  He's the best.  :-)