On Sunday night, I went to an event to watch people compete their little hearts out in a salsa competition. First of all, I felt betrayed. When I heard the words "salsa competition", my mind instantly went to a place in which I would be seated on a bar stool surrounded by copious amounts of diced tomatoes with just enough zing to make my sandpaper tongue come to life. I'd then eat my way into a Mexican passport and live happily ever after with my donkey and a poncho. You can imagine my disappointment when what I found was a bunch of sweaty Caucasians, who were certified in Zumba, taking to the stage.
After watching couple by couple thrust their hips, bob their heads and glow of sweat, I decided to turn the porn off of my iPhone and pay attention to the dancing happening right in front of me. Eight groups of two were all piled onto a tiny stage at once, just begging for the love and adoration of the crowd. Doing everything they could to win votes and claim the prize of being a mediocre, random-bar dance legend, they twirled, kicked and caressed their bodies through perfectly sewn-together matching costumes. It was like Dancing with the Stars - without the stars. Which is basically, Dancing with the Stars.
There was this one couple though who I decided to hate. As I had entered the place, they were rehearsing in the middle of the path to enter and the woman did a spin-hair flip combo and almost cut my face with her straw-like mane. She didn't apologize or anything, she just kept spinning an inch away from my face. As her hair gently trickled across my brow, I imagined myself reverting to a Tonya Harding-like mentality and clubbing her in the knee. I'd then watch as she fell to the floor, crying away her dreams of dancing success.
But, I didn't. I'm too pretty for prison.
My unnecessary disdain then turned to the guy. He weighed about 48 pounds and had chosen to wear a flowy, all-white number that I am sure allowed ample ventilation to the science-class skeleton frame that lurked just underneath. When he took a break from rehearsing, I saw him lean against a wall. He then, literally, stuck his head between his legs and pulled some sort of contorted yoga moves that were last featured in any random Halloween film in which an exorcism is performed.
At this point, with a belly lacking a delicious tomato paste-y wholesomeness, I decided to call it quits. I can watch dancing, I can watch stupidity (sidenote: check out any of my youtube videos) but I can not watch a grown man stick his head so far between his legs that he could have given a visual play-by-play of his own colonoscopy. It's not normal. It's not a part of God's plan, and I won't stand for it.
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