Ballroom Disaster

I often write about how much I hated high school but not every part of it was bad. Before alcohol and adulthood, my friends and I had to find other ways to get our laughs.

In year nine we were forced to learn ballroom dancing. My best friend and I paired up and we were very defiant. We thought it was ridiculous that not only did we have to learn to ballroom dance but we also had to perform in front of our class and my teacher would be recording it.

Neither of us took it seriously. We got in trouble for making up our own moves when everyone else was practicing properly. Our teacher didn’t appreciate our creativity or the fact that we had zero coordination and usually ended up tangled together laughing. If the other girls weren’t so aptly paired up and determined to impress, I am sure we would have been separated. The teacher didn’t want either of us to bring others onto our sinking ship so we pretended to practice until the big performance day.

Most of us wore our sports uniform but some of the girls went to special efforts to accessorise for extra marks. I’m pretty sure someone had a rose between her teeth at one stage. When it was our turn to go down to the front and perform, my best friend and I exchanged an evil glance. We knew we were going to stuff it up out of protest and for fun. The music came on and we pretended to be serious about ballroom dancing. I think we were doing the cha-cha but it very quickly turned into our own freestyle/butchered dance routine. We were like Romy and Michele dancing at their Prom except even we couldn’t take ourselves seriously and we both started laughing.

Our class laughed too but they were laughing at us. We didn’t care at all. We spun each other around and even though we were terrible, the teacher had to be fair and let us have our allotted time to dance.

We both failed ballroom dancing, which obviously had a huge impact on our lives.

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