If you can't dance if you can't dance

There is no escape from being a bad dancer.
Anyone who suggests lessons just doesn't understand. Classes are preposterous if you're wishing to improve. Set moves to specific songs (that you'll most likely have to request) would only add to the humiliation.
A shoulder of vodka into the night I let my guard down and made that old faithful mistake, I thought I could dance. I felt the beat, I was at one with the song and the dance floor of the Czech Inn felt like home. Semi lucid, I turned suddenly and caught a glimpse of a lunatic in the mirror-dancing uncontrollably. How embarrassing, I thought to myself- Arms flailing, shoulders bobbing, with wild staccato leg movements that would generally accompany someone who was having a seizure. Then I looked again-the lunatic had my clothes and my face-Jesus Christ, she was holding my drink.

I'm not tarring the entire country with the one brush, but we seem to be a nation of reserved and very aware dancers. Take our National dance for example-tight corkscrew curls, a dress that weighs 3 stone (harder to take off), knee high white socks and all of this done with the arms held firmly by your side, with only your legs moving- like you're trying to flea from an amorous prospector as quickly and politely as you can."Hold that dress down! Heaven forbid he'd catch a glimpse of what lies beneath!"

Compare it to the smooth sexiness of Latin dancing (which from what I've witnessed seems to be taught from birth in every other European Country except here) We're in a different league.That said, even salsa dancing makes me cringe, not because I don't like it, but because any attempt I've ever made has only served to cement that fact I have no natural sense of rhythm. If ever there was a move to highlight one's dancing flaws, crotch grinding and simultaneous hip swaying is it.

Until I reach 80 (my current dance-style age) I'll be waiting it out at the bar...

At least until I've finished my drink.