It’s a Dance Off

It is easy to claim that Martin and I began our relationship on the dance floor.  Our first time hanging out in Zurich ended with a dance session at Nelson’s, the notorious dive bar with a dance floor in the back. And our first kiss was shared on the same dance floor just a few weeks later…And even more so, our relationship experienced its first bump in the road on a studio dance floor during tango lesions…I couldn’t “follow” and Martin couldn’t stop stepping on my feet.

So one might think that our first dance as husband and wife would be the least of our worries…and maybe technically it is, but just to be sure, we signed up for dance lessons.  One lesson to be exact, with fifteen other soon-to-be married couples, to teach man and wife how to be compatible while moving across a wooden floor without stepping on each other’s feet or yelling.  Or put otherwise, to learn how to duke it out on the dance floor while trying to act in love. 

Our class was on a Sunday morning and we eagerly arrived in the best of moods; it was sunny outside, we had an enjoyable walk to get coffee and we couldn’t have been more in love.  Joining us were the other happy couples who were just as excited and just as in love as we were.  As a side note: when you get engaged, you think that you and your fiancé are the perfect match, you are so in love and so happy that no one else could possibly be experiencing the same thing you are and therefore everyone else must be jealous of your relationship and such.  Or at least that is how it feels.  It took 15 couples sitting around  in a confined space, all on display knowing everyone else in the room was getting married to draw out the competitive nature in us all.  There were plenty of the chest puffing, feather ruffling and countless other animalistic displays occurring in the lounge, trying to prove how much each mate loved one another to make the wait uncomfortable and slightly awkward…such a social study.

The teacher, either unaware or used to the dynamics, was great.  In the course of 90 minutes, she taught us the basic steps to the fox trot and swing.  And while Martin and I laughed and muddled our way through the “slow, slow, quick quicks” and my in ability to “follow” (to be fair I was backed into a wall or two, thereby heightening my senses), we watched as other couples struggled, argued or laughed through their own issues.

Thankfully, unlike the tango lesions, we ended the class still laughing and still liking each other…We even practiced the steps in our kitchen later that night.  And while I would prefer to swing for our first dance and Martin’s heart is set on the fox trot, I am sure we will have a great time…And to guarantee it, we are signing up for another round of lessons before the big show.