at 8:30 pm I get to shake it at Zumba with these fine 4 individuals:
#1. My instructor.
She looks like Joan Rivers 10 years ago but just as scary. It's all I can do to keep from running out the door as she grins at us as she shakes her very small bottom.#2. A crazy hispanic woman with bad highlights and fake blue nails. She actually has a pretty good sense of rhythm but considering she's latino I guess that's to be expected. She comes with her 2 teenage daughters who are more concerned with watching themselves spin around in the mirror than getting a work out.
#3. The slightly girly dancer boy. He has a shag I suspect is highlighted bi-weekly. His cutoff navy shirt perfectly compliments his shiny navy pants. Winning combo.
#4. The best of all. The first time I saw this meat head I thought he accidentally walked into the aerobics room instead of the free-weights room. But no, he comes every week. He always happens to stand right in front of me making it very difficult to see the instructor over his overly huge biceps. Seeing this man try to dance is by far the best part of my week.
And yes this is a REAL pic I creepily snapped of him before class started tonight.
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