Monday, December 13, 2010

A Cure for White Man's Overbite?


If you asked any of my high school friends about my ability to dance, they would probably bite their lower lips and say, "She has a tendency to do this."

I've never had much rhythm. As a kid, I wanted to join a cheerleading team but it was expensive and I don't think my parents wanted to deal with driving me to practice and competitions. So while some of my friends were cultivating the ability to groove to a beat and pick up the latest moves from their instructors, I was writing poetry and playing out dramatic storylines with my Barbies (yes, I was a late bloomer).

I would only dance to slow songs at school dances. And in college, when we started going to clubs, the white man's overbite would creep out every time. Thankfully, my kind friends would point it out and laugh hysterically so I could amend my facial expression when necessary...

I've gotten better about the lip-biting, but I still wouldn't say I'm a great dancer. Unless there's disco music playing. Then I can tear it up. But dancing properly at weddings and stuff? Definitely not my forte.

The night Mr. Wonderful and I got engaged, we were celebrating with drinks and dessert at the Madonna Inn, when suddenly the lead singer of the band said, "Now we'd like to have Melissa and Mr. W come to the dance floor for a special dance in honor of their engagement."

We both froze. And Mr. W's then roommate, Dirty Painter, laughed really hard.

He knew we couldn't dance. But there was no getting around it for either of us. We were on the spot. So with a couple dozen people watching, Mr. W and I took to the dance floor and tried to perform while the band played "Crazy Little Thing Called Love." We were both blushing profusely and I was sweating like a transvestite in a trucker bar. So many eyes on us. So many toes attached to my feet. So much room on that parquet floor. And it's not like Mr. W has stellar dance skills and could just lead me around, hiding my ineptness.

We were a pretty sad pair. And we knew this spelled big trouble for our first dance at the wedding.

But being the ├╝ber thoughful superhuman he is, last night Mr. W gave me an early Christmas gift: 2 private dance lessons for us to squeeze in before he leaves to work in London for two months. I'm hoping this means our toes will be twinkling and our overbites will be concealed by the time the big day rolls around.

10 comments:

geekhiker said...

I don't dance. If the online dating sites I used to be a part of are any indication, this will result in me being single until I'm six feet under...

Danielle said...

I am not a dancer either. What a great guy to get that for the two of you! He is def a keeper!

Sizzle said...

Dance lessons are a great idea (and gift!). I know Mr. D and I will need them too. I played the song I'd love to dance to at our someday wedding and he was like, "we better get to some lessons!" because it is a bit uptempo. Hee hee.

Have fun!

Sir Thomas said...

I see nothing about you that is average.... nothing

It seems to be all pretty good....



*smiles*

leafprobably said...

I was a late bloomer too :) I totally played with Barbies, and built elaborate stables for their Barbie Horses while my friends were off playing with makeup, hair products, and shopping!

Wow, that was awkward said...

Sooooo, it's not cool to bite the lower lip? She-ite!

Anonymous said...

You can start by "rockin around the christmas tree"!
What a guy - did you think of doing that for him?!

Dingo said...

The white man's overbite I can deal with, but if you start doing a fist pump, well, you're hopeless.

jennerilizations said...

I'm not sure you have to be Janet Jackson at your wedding but you should be a sight better than Finn on "Glee". Everytime he dances and angel loses it's wings.

jennerilizations said...

I'm not sure you have to be Janet Jackson at your wedding but you should be a sight better than Finn on "Glee". Everytime he dances and angel loses it's wings.