It’s safe to say that Kim and I will be the Ronettes/Pips/Vandellas of our belly dance class when our 6 weeks are over. I think we both assumed (and you know what that spells, yuk yuk) it would be a small, intimate class – but quickly found out we were wrong. What else is new? Women showed up en masse this afternoon – all makes, models, colors, and with varying accessory options. We made friendly with several of the girls then quickly found our way to a corner in the back of the class where we might go unnoticed.
Our instructor told us we should practice our “moves” outside of class, assuring us that we’d soon find ourselves doing the “moves” in random places like the line at the bank without realizing it. Kim and I turned to each other and burst out giggling, then spent all the jingling practice time laying out the way it would go down. The inspiration for our devious plot was the coined sashes some of the girls wore on their waists. The role of robber could be played by either of us, but is enhanced if you can imagine me doing it in my ninja garb. An alternate to that is to imagine David Spade doing it.
Robber: This is a hold up. (shoulder roll, chest drop) Give me twenty dollars. (hip pop) Now. (forward bend roll, holds up “C” hand)
Teller: Uh, ok.
Robber: I’ll take it in coins. (leg shimmy)
Teller: (looks confused)
Robber: That’s good. I’ll be leaving now. (belly roll)
Teller: (still baffled)
Robber: (exits doing the camel walk)
Teller: Is she having a seizure?
It’s entirely possible this would be more amusing if you’d been there first hand to witness our working “the moves” and having to wipe the tears from our faces and muffle our laughter like a couple of kids in 6th grade sex-ed after hearing the word “breast”.