Well, this is embarrassing. Right now I am not in control of my limbs – made clear because they are flailing around in some kind of inharmonious haze, a flagrant insubordination of what my mind is telling them to do. The result is that I must look something like a confused chicken. It would be comforting if this embarrassment was witnessed by only a select few close mates. But no, I am one of just three men surrounded by 30 stunning women, all of whom seem to have inherited perfect rhythm and grace. If you haven’t guessed it yet, I am in the midst of every male’s worst fear; a dance class.
In recent times Marina hangout Blends has perked up their Wednesday ladies’ night by offering free salsa lessons. After around an hour of ritualised torture at the hands of pro instructor Aloy Junco this reviewer decided it may not be his calling in life. It’s not that I don’t have rhythm, its just that I don’t seem to be able to find it. Later on the floor opens up to a night of Latino grooves from DJ Evo. Everyone else seemed to be having a ball, but we were happy to watch from the sidelines.