So, we have this woman at work. You know the type? Beautiful, smart and then, the other day I learned something about her that just takes the cake. Apparently, she can dance, too. I have been rounding up my co-worker posse to go back to bellydancing classes. I told "L" about it. (yeah, she is so cool she just has an initial.) She told me how she used to do bellydancing, tap dancing, African dance, etc.
I shifted about uncomfortably on my two uncoordinated feet. I only have this to say:
Please, please, please, L, if you join us for bellydancing at Aalim, PLEASE don't stand next to me!! For not only are you stunningly beautiful, but you actually KNOW how to dance! I fear that the drastic contrast of our respective dance abilities will be made glaringly obvious to all observers.
Additionally, it is possible that, were one to partake of your amazing gyrational talents and then be subjected to my uncoordinated procedure they could be compelled to summon Emergency Medical Professionals for fear that I might be currently suffering from a seizure.
Please, L, don't let it be like 4th Grade all over again when my Dorothy Hamill haircut grew out into a shaggy bob and my two front teeth grew into a mouth not quite big enough for them. If you add in the peasant shirt my mom made me wear for picture day and you could say that the theme of my 4th Grade Year was something along the lines of "Cyndi Gets Chased Around the Playground By Kids Who Have Better Teeth and Hair".
So, can we just agree on this right here, right now, L? Can we?
Please, L,.....I'm beggin' ya!