Foray into salsa dancing

Everyone I know is into salsa. I know the real craze has come and gone, but many around me are still riding the wave of latin mania. Jo, my roommate, is a salsa addict. Damn good, too.

I want to be good. But it seems I need time for my body to catch up with that desire.

Tonight I went to a local Salsa bar for a "free lesson" . It was about 15 minutes long and I didn't learn much that I hadn't learned already at my gym salsa class.

Armed with the essentials (count of 8, right?), I sat on a bar stool and watched as people twirled, whirled, gyrated, and perambulated around the floor. It looked like so much fun!

But no one asked me to dance.

Next time I go, I must go armed with not only a knowledge of the very basic salsa step, but also the ambition to ask at least 5 people to dance with me.

Because in Japan, as a foreign women, no one will ever approach US.

Next time- basic salsa step + 5 people.

Ella Fitzgerald's song, Imagine my Frustration, sums up my feelings!
"Imagine my frustration with no invitation to dance" ba bum, trumpet. sax, ba bum...