Sweaty paws and happy feet

My hip was slightly sore from today's overzealous session. Shiny full-length floor to ceiling mirrors are my latest adversaries. I can see every ounce of undesirable fat on my body. I discovered that I'm not programmed to dance side ways, i lose my counts and bearings. I'm not quite looking forward to the turns. I realise that I follow better with my eyes closed. I'm too stubborn for my own good.

There was a particular guy that was on the petite side, vertically challenged. I couldn't figure out where to rest my line of vision and ended up looking downwards. I saw his round tummy before his feet. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. And I'm not sure which is funnier this or another guy who doesn't seem to have any sense of rhythm at all. The sight of him reminded me of S in a club dancing to R&B, it's the absolutely the unsexiest thing ever known to my eyes.

I'm trying to convince Jan (the favourite gay cousin) to join me. Nothing more attention grabbing than 2 gender benders rockin' out latin moves in a gay club. It's so him. I'm excited so excited that I'm picking up costumes in my head.