Monday, October 17, 2005

Salsa or Salsa?

In an event that was probably nearly as painful to watch as it was to participate in - I tried to learn to salsa dance Saturday night. The company my husband works for held a "Salsa y Salsa" night at a local culinary institute. When my husband mentioned free food I, of course, wiped the drool off of myself and said, "sounds like fun". Now the catch is the second salsa of "Salsa y Salsa" night. That salsa is of the dancing variety. Apparently, the company hired a dance instructor to try to teach us to salsa and merengue.

Now at this point I should mention that I would love to know how to dance. I think dance classes would be fun, but there is a big difference between dance classes and what is basically a corporate mixer where my biggest thought is, "Don't get your husband fired, don't get your husband fired..."

After meeting plenty of appropriately nasty women, (oh, you're a homemaker) the food was finally brought out. It was okay. I mean, let's be honest, a culinary institute is going to make nice fancy food, but good Latin American or Mexican? Please. If it's not some side street, hole in the wall joint it's just not going to be good. The same usually applies to hamburgers and fried chicken, but I digress.

So at this point I'm still thinking it's a moderate success (I've refrained from punching the nasty women's faces and the mediocre quality of the food has kept me from embarassing myself at the buffet). Then we go to dance. It starts out slow enough that I can keep up. So far, so good. The merengue isn't too difficult. But then comes the salsa. Oh God. I sort of understand it if I concentrate and don't go too fast but my husband, I love him to death, but my husband is struggling. By stuggling I mean mashing my toes to bloody hell. Oh, and spinning me into the other people on the floor. You know it's time to get off the dance floor when you're having to ask yourself "Oh, did I just knock that girl unconcious?".

The rest of the night we watched the other people dance. It made me feel not quite so inept. I'm not going to make fun of people because hey, everybody was having a good time and that's what matters. But, just to give you an idea, I will say this, my husband is an accountant. No joke. I actually got to watch a room full of accountants trying to do the salsa. Classic. I couldn't make this up if I tried.

Anyway, to answer the question posed by the post "Salsa or Salsa?", I can say that both the delicious condiment and the sultry dance of love are fun - but I'll stick with the food, it may give you heartburn, but it won't make your toes bleed.

2 comments:

Erica said...

I'm very proud of you for not shoving the nasty womens' faces in the salsa. Because that? Would have been Un! Comfortable! (And for the record, you're right -- dance classes are usually a great deal of fun, but very different than a corporate sock hop.)

Knitting Painter Woman said...

Life is WAY to short to worry about what other people think. My CPA friend says that contrary to stereotype, accountants have wicked funny senses of humor. Keep your toes tapping (or get steel toed pumps) and keep your boy hopping. Maybe genuine Mexican food can come from an institute, but Tex Mex should definitely be from someplace the Health Department doesn't know about.