Smug Has A Short Lifespan
Oh, I have been amazing lately in Zumba.
My hips almost sway; my shoulders almost don’t look tense; my breasts almost shimmy; my teeth almost unclench. I’m almost there.
So I strutted into class tonight full of almost self-confidence.
And there was someone in my spot. My spot. That place on the floor where I always stand. Another woman was in my spot.
My confidence fell just a bit. But hey, no big deal. I’m mature. I went and stood in a spot behind the little usurper. Somewhat to the left though, because I couldn’t be right behind her, or I wouldn’t be able to see myself in the mirror. I have to see myself. I have a cute outfit.
Only I wasn’t the only one wearing that cute outfit. This girl – the one standing in MY SPOT – was wearing the exact same thing. A black racerback tank and grey capri leggings. Well, okay. That’s pretty common workout wear. It’s perfectly fine for someone else to wear the same thing.
Only she wasn’t wearing it the same. Her racerback tank stuck way out in the front. She had boobs. Whereas I have teensy-weensy breasts. She had knockers.
But okay, big breasts aren’t everything. I have an athletic body. (sort of – that’s a nice synonym for flat-chested, right?) And that’s good for dancing.
Her grey leggings were a little different too. She had no hips. I have womanly hips. That’s great for zumba. It’s sexy. And – now that I am an experienced zumba-ist – they almost move.
I warmed up with a few squats. Some marching in place. She warmed up with pirouettes. Yes, she spun around on one foot. More than once. Both directions. I did a few more squats.
We start. I’ve been doing this now for close to two years. I know the steps. This poor child who is just starting out will probably be lost.
She danced. She had the steps. Like she invented them. And her boobs shimmied, and her non-hips undulated.
I saw the teacher look in our direction. I saw her mouth a word: “wow.”
But I was great too.
I mean, I didn’t throw up or anything.