There are things in this world that are simply indisputable. Among them: I am on a short list of the worst dancers ever.
Rhythm and I have never officially met. Sure, we made eye contact across the room a few times, but she still hasn't responded to the dozens of messages I left for her on match.com.
And yet there I was Wednesday night, heading into the West Congregational Church on North State Street for my first official square dancing lesson.
Insert terrified gasp here.
The evening began innocuously enough as I donned a nametag and bashfully shuffled my feet as far out of sight as possible. But then Darrell Sprague, a veteran caller of 37 years, ordered the first group of dancers to the floor and I found myself next to Andrea Johnston, an unsuspecting young lady completely unaware that she had been partnered with the dancing equivalent of a boulder (though Andrea admitted she was relatively new to the venture, as well).
Thankfully, the class is tailored to include those with little or no experience. We formed a square – no shock there – with another group of partners across from us and one on either side. Then we learned to do-si-do, a move even I could handle given that it consisted of walking past my partner, taking a step to the right and then backing up to where I started.
Movement one, complete.
To my surprise, the moves that followed were also successful, at least relatively so. There were a few times where in my haste to keep up I confused complicated procedural techniques such as “right” and “left,” but overall I didn't seem to embarrass myself or Andrea too much.
The first round complete, the dancers took a break, providing time for me to meet young William Veenstra, a school-aged lad whose introductory words to me were, “Is this your first class?”
Wow, was it that obvious?
William informed me that this was his fourth class, and that it would get easier. I chewed on that possibility while I chewed on a cookie with a Hershey kiss in the middle that someone had generously prepared, all the while gearing up for Round Two.
This particular square found me paired with Arlene Rooney, an experienced dancer who would later take part in the advanced class. Any confidence I had gained from surviving round one began to fade as I imagined the veteran Arlene bouncing merrily through the routine while I looked like a cat trying to solve a calculus problem.
Alas, there was no need to worry. Though the second round featured a few more complicated steps that featured all eight dancers moving at once, I was able to keep up enough so that Arlene didn't have to leave me in the dust.
She even asked if I had been before, and when I admitted I hadn't she said I was doing a fine job.
She may have been being polite, but I was taking what I could get at that point.
The second round ended as successfully as the first – all major limbs intact, zero feet belonging to other people stepped on – so I sidled away to grab my camera to shoot pictures during the final round.
The overall experience was enjoyable. Sprague's musical selections were much different than I anticipated, even including Jennifer Lopez's fairly new tune, “On the Floor,” a certain departure from the all-country playlist I expected (Sprague said square dancing has begun to integrate different kinds of music in hopes of attracting new and younger dancers).
The dancers were all welcoming, even those with years of experience saddled with first-time partners like myself. As one would expect, the vibe was a pleasant and upbeat one, with Sprague even mixing in a few lyrics on the microphone during the third and final round.
As the advanced dancers prepared for their class at 8 p.m., I quietly worked my way to the back of the room and grabbed my coat. I headed for my car and couldn't help but think the night had been something of a success: zero body count, zero collisions, and a few dance steps I could actually handle.
Not bad for one of the world's worst.
I may even send rhythm another internet message.
