Foray Back into Dance Instruction

I got an emergency call, around 5:00 yesterday, from a woman whose husband teaches ballroom for cancer survivors. He was sick with the flu and her previous attempt to teach the class was a failure. "P. gave me your number and said you would be excellent. It's at 7:00 tonight."

Gah! It's been ages since I taught, but I couldn't say no. I mean, cancer survivors? How could one say no? So, I did it. With a whole two hours of preparation and four couples in the class. Sheesh. Everybody seemed to have fun, though. God knows how well I did. I remember talking constantly, but not exactly what I said.

I tried to give them the J. the Sadistic Czech Dance Instructor (JtSCDI) hints and tips without the Sadistic part and with a greater command of English, using the same stupid jokes that I've heard so many times in ballroom classes. So! That's how stupid jokes propagate, 'cause we can't think of anything else to say. They propagate into a Joke Vacuum.

Ah, well.

Yarha, Incorporating as a Gigolo Even as We Speak