At the gym

I hate gyms, I really do, but since I’m working from home and here there are no Tap classes or an easy way to play v-ball, I decided to join a gym before I became crazy.

It’s a small gym, just behind my building. It takes me 5 minutes to get there.

There is this class called bailoterapia which idea is to do some exercise and burn calories while dancing. Sounds good, right? Well, 70% of the music is reggaeton and when is not, the instructor dance it likes if it was, shaking his body, moving hips sexually and touching his body in a sensual way.

Maybe I’m getting older, but I really don’t like reggaeton. I got it, it’s a cultural thing and I didn’t grown up thinking that shaking your body in front of a guy you don’t even know is normal. It’s not normal to me and it’s odder shaking it collectively in a class with a glass wall behind. So, I skip the explicit sex movement and limit myself to the normal dancing.

But seems like even Flamenco or Tango, two rhythms not known by the sinuosity of body movements have become a variation of pole dancing.

The thing is, women love this guy who in the middle of a class asks for water and immediately he has a bunch of groupies offering their own bottle for him to drink. He throws a sweaty towel to a woman and she screams like a 5 years old girl being chasing, and laughs. And of course, he goes and shakes himself against some laughing babe who is really enjoying the moment.

I have take tons of classes in my life, including a lot of different type of dancing, and I never had seen something like this before; so I deliberately avoid any eye contact with the instructor. I don’t want him to believe he can come and “dance” with me, I don’t laugh, I don’t smile. Once he asked me if I was mad and I said “yes, I’m always mad”. I don’t want to be in the position of telling him that I don’t think that what he does is right.

I know is me, I mean all others are more than happy with his attitude, so I can’t say anything, I’m the weird.