My ex-dance instructor

I got a call Friday, where the girl who’s teaching me to dance said she’s gotta cancel that night’s lesson. Too bad, we were going to hit up a Salsa club.  I was actually sleeping when she called, so I kept the conversation short “Great… no worries… gives me more time for productivity tonight.” I went back to sleep, but I noted that she had an angry tone to her voice.

The tone of voice was the one when someone is angry because they JUST found out something… like that someone is cheating on them, or something along those lines.  I wasn’t sure what it was…  I had my suspicion though. Maybe I was just imagining it, I mean, it is just one cancelation, and I was sleeping, right? I mean, just the night before she took me with her to her friend’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, shared some laughs, she said she liked the pictures I took so far, and reminded me about the Salsa club.  Must be the fact I was sleeping… read too much into things, right?

Saturday I sent a text “Hey Coach!  When’s the next lesson? We’re down to only 2 weeks.”  – I had one lesson so far. I’m definitely not an expert, and I doubt that one lesson can actually improve my situation in a dance club. Alexis called me back quickly after that text. She had the same angry tone that I thought I picked up on the day before.

“I don’t think it’s working out for me!”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to do this any more.  This isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not working out for me.”

That is one sexy dress- funny story about that

“Ok…. thanks for letting me know.”

“Ok, I hope we can still be friends.”

“Sure.  Bye”

I unfriended her on Facebook already.  Why?  Because she wasted my time.  You see, I don’t just take photos, I also process them to get the color and depth that I like.  I spent more time shooting (photographing) her than she did teaching me.  She can actually use the fruits of my labor, where as I can’t really use the fruits of hers.  Other than colors, I also spent time taking out the wall-sockets, fire-sprinkler, and a few other corrections. Since they were e-mailed, and I don’t have the time or patience to track them down and make sure she doesn’t use them… she can do whatever she wants to with them.  It’s fine.  I appreciate the thanksgiving dinner.

So… what happened?  Why would she be pissed off and cancel if she liked the pictures, and I live 3 miles from her, so travel to give lessons isn’t tough?

Well…. this is just a guess of mine.  I suppose I could ask, but I’m not going to (I’ll talk about lessons learned from relationships past, a bit later)- so… remember my blog post titled “Packing, and Dancing, and Shooting” ? Well, I think that since we were hanging out with a bunch of her friends on Thanksgiving dinner, her friends probably asked about me.  I was telling many jokes as usual, easing the silence, entertaining, and asking people about themselves.  It’s what one should do as a dinner guest. I think the next day (which everyone was invited to come back to the same house for leftover lunch), someone pulled up my blog.

I’ll admit that Alexis is quite good looking.  She has very beautiful eyes.  The color is very saturated, the pupils very deep.  She is in good shape, a decent height, has healthy hair, and a great smile… and dancing is sexy as hell, and she’s quite good at it.  So, when we danced, it was very easy to stare deep into her eyes (no, that’s not a tits euphemism).  At dinner, we’d keep exchanging glances, and smiling at each other.  To tell you the truth, it made me think of what it feels like being in a relationship…. how you spend time together during the holidays, with each other’s friends and family… and while spending time with other people, keep glancing back at each other. Maybe I just watched too many movies?

Ok… so now that we’re in person, there’s a certain vibe.  We both think each other is sexy (I wrote something in an e-mail about needing to exercise, her reply was “stop being so humble, you know your hot!” (Another reason it wouldn’t work– I hate constant typos :p  ).  When she got into her brown dress (picture black and white on the left), she did a little spin, and the dress came up to reveal her butt for a second.

“Did you just see my butt?”

“Well… I didn’t have my camera ready, but yeah.”

“Like… you saw the whole thing?”

“Well… probably about 60% of it…  but don’t quote me on that” (funny– I just quoted myself on that)

“Oh my god, this is so embarassing! I”m so sorry!”

“It’s really not something you need to apologize for, I assure you! It’s a nice butt actually!”

“Can you show me your butt? I think that would make me feel better!” – I knew she was going to ask that!

“Maybe we’ll have an exchange later.”

It certainly led to a lot of smiles back and forth.

So… so far, it sounds like a developing relationship or something, right? I mean.. clearly I give away the punchline with my oh-so-descriptive title “no more dancing…”, but if you hadn’t read that… sounds like things are getting spicy’ish.  So…. back to my hypothethis.  I think that on Friday she showed them my blog, and Facebook profile.  They ran across my blog post (Packing, and Dancing, and Shooting), and saw “the other one seemed more normal.  Normal isn’t bad. We emailed, traded photos, and finally made it to the phone. After a little while, I just felt the vibe wasn’t there…. Some religious differences, some business belief differences, and then… just the simple vibe.  You know, when you start a conversation, and it falters?  So… I didn’t call back after that call, and neither did she, and that was that… until the start of November.”

Also, in my facebook page, I had written something about how terrible it is to have to explain this joke… whatever joke it was… but clearly, she’d know what joke it was, as I had told it to her on the phone, and had to explain it to her.

So… having a transparent life can be a bitch. I blog my life, and I’m honest.  All in all, it’s fine…. I knew this shouldn’t develop into a relationship, and it ended up not.  But, someone’s feelings got hurt (I didn’t think I was overly mean), and not to mention, no more dance lessons– oh yeah… and no help packing or cleaning.  As they say… “Oh well!”