Poultry in motion

As I go into my weekly line dancing class, I notice that everyone is gathered around the laptop watching the recording of one of our latest lessons. Line dancing has hit the Alps in a big way. It has also hit me like one of my husband’s tractors – an essential fix of hillbillyness that I cannot bear to miss.

I stare at the screen with interest. I started in September and have always thought that I had a fairly cool stance for a beginner.  I bend to look closer and then straighten, horrified.

We have always been told to dance with our hands in our pockets. A closer examination of the other dancers on the screen showed that this means fingertips gently poised. Watching the grainy film, I see that mine are jammed in up to knuckle level and held there with grim determination. I must have some unconscious dread that if I let them loose they will whip out propeller style when I turn and smack my nearest neighbour in the gob. I also notice gloomily that my favourite jeans have suffered from the unaccustomed abuse and now have pockets that sag outwards in eternal bagginess.

I look at the offending laptop, then away again, cringing. My elbows are sticking out at odd angles compared to everyone else’s, flapping to the music like a chicken in the yard. To complete the avian effect, I notice that I am often perched on one leg whilst I work out where to put the other.

I glance around me and see others wearing the same bemused expression. Apparently I am not the only cowboy in the room who dances like his horse.

Later, as I sit in the car and wait for the night watchman to lift the barrier and let me out, I reflect with a wry grin, that practicing in the main hall of the local ‘hôpital psychiatrique’ is strangely fitting for this particular activity.

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4 Responses to Poultry in motion

  1. angela says:

    I love line dancing too…I go to a class run by two Brits. And, thank God, they don’t do a film of us dancing. I couldn’t bear to see how obvious my fudging the steps is.
    Have you got any guys at yours?

  2. We’ve got a few guys, most of whom are excellent dancers.

  3. angela says:

    Ours is practically all women, not that it matters but as you say the guys are usually the better dancers. There are frequent events on Saturdays on the coast.

  4. They often organize events here too. They also go once a month to a “saloon” in Gignac, near Marseille. Have you ever heard of it?

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