Monday, 30 September 2013

I Am (A Self Confessed) Expert

It's been a while since I brought you my last 'experts' guide.

As you know I am a self confessed expert in many areas ranging from kissing to sheep wrangling, dating to sock buying with a particular genius for relationship counselling.

But, there's an area I've overlooked ... 


I spent a couple of hours last Friday night down at my local YMCA where they were holding an open evening with taster sessions and displays and cake (I was, to be honest,  there mostly for the cake).

The following evening Surfer Dude and I met with friends at a local pub to see a band and, in a moment of genius it hit me - a huge untapped area in the market just waiting to be exploited.

I spent Friday evening rocking to Rumba, shaking to Salsa and salivating to Street Dance (seriously, Lewis who leads the Street Dancers should come with a government health warning, if Miss Mac hadn't held me back whilst SD implored me to, 'for the love of god' remember my dodgy knee and weak back I'd have signed up there and then  for a little one on one!)

Hmmm ...  Moving on ...

So, there I was on Saturday night grooving away to the band along with an eclectic assortment of likeminded rockers when the idea began to form in my mind.


I've got YEARS of experience and observation to share and, to my knowledge there's no-one else out there doing it.

All I need is a dressing up collection and a few cardboard boxes, I don't even need music - everyone knows the art of proper pub dancing requires you to be totally tone deaf and out of time - although, thinking about it, I guess the advanced class might need to include singing along very loudly and out of tune to the chorus of Come On Eileen (complete with foot stamping and hand clapping for the more experienced).

I've been practicing a few moves with the cats this morning.

Bears (my cat of little brain) is a big fan of the 'knee trembler', an almost imperceptible move specifically designed for the first half of the evening where, substituting a pint of lager for a mug of tea, I stood, apparently rooted to the spot, my patella vibrating gently.  At first I don't think he was fully convinced and seemed unimpressed but once I'd rolled my PJ's up to thigh level he could properly appreciate the subtlety of the move.   Buoyed up by his enthusiasm I tried some slight head nodding and lip pursing.

Pouting is probably going to need several sessions all on its own - I must make a mental note to book one of the dance rooms with mirrors for this one ...  Once I've emptied the content of the vacuum bag over them and dimmed the lights I'm sure it will be really authentic.

I also need to come up with some really cool names for the dance moves, I'm thinking of going with:

The Staged Stagger - you combine it with the pulsating patella and lunge slightly to your left. Bouncing off the person next to you, you raise your glass silently in their direction before lunging back and shouting 'Tooo Ra, Too Ra Loo Ra Laaaaay' as you resume the patella position.

On the off chance that there IS no one to your left you can follow through on the staged stagger with the complete:

'Jukebox Jive' - with nothing to hinder you, you carry on across the floor River Dance fashion leading with your head until you hit the nearest solid object - this is where the cardboard boxes come into their own simulating a juke box (once the classes are up and running I may have to consider investing in a few breeze blocks for the totally authentic  thud or maybe a real juke box or maybe I'll just paint the boxes ...  or something ...  I'm still working on the details ...) - the resulting spillage of lager will bring us on to the next move which, in true English pub tradition I shall, from now on be spelling - LARGER.

And so, we move seamlessly on to:

'The Larger Lambada' this only really works in proper English pubs I'm afraid where years of spilt larger have built up a rich and very sticky patina on the floor (it works even better on carpet) - having spent the first part of the evening perfecting the pulsating patella with a few staggered lunges and the odd jukebox jive, the pub dancer will stand a while lip pursing, pouting and, at odd times, giving a loud, 'TOOO RAAHAHA - LOOOOO RAAHAHA' completely unaware that their feet are becoming slowly welded to the floor. 

This only becomes apparent (and then only to those around them) when they fling the remains of their pint down the back of the person standing in front of them and, having 'finished' their drink, they attempt to make their way to the bar in order to refill their glass in preparation for the second set, this is when the inadvertent Larger Lambada come into its own.

They twist and they turn, give a few hip shimmies and knee jerks but remain firmly rooted in position glued to the floor with a combination of barley, oats and toad droppings (an essential ingredient of any self respecting English larger)

The pub dancer may at this point believe that the person to their left has extracted revenge for the Staged Stagger by nailing their feet to the floor. Much teeth baring (an advanced form of lip pursing and pouting) may follow  combined with muttering (mostly words that It's fair to say do NOT appear to my knowledge in any of Dexys Midnight Runners songs) and veiled threats of violence (something else I may consider adding to the agenda along with air guitar lessons).

They may think that they are in fact sitting down which they will find most confusing when they realise that, despite this they are still the same height as everyone else - this can lead them to believe that they have developed super human strength and hulk like abilities to expand (and is obviously something I will strongly be discouraging in my classes!!)

I'll be combining all of the above with head tossing (hair optional or, for a small fee, I can provide hair extensions, toupee's or hats with built in ponytails) - beer belching, magic tricks (that one's especially for SD) and fire eating for the smokers puffing away outside (as you know, I'm a stickler of inclusiveness!).

I told you it was ingenious didn't I? 

I'm off to Primark to invest in some faux leather leggings and lurex legwarmers to wear with my leopard print stilettos and frilled spandex bra top.

* Full kit list available on request - advanced booking strongly recommend ...


joeh said...

My bad hip started to hurt just reading this.

SlapdashMama said...

There's money to be made in this somehow I just KNOW IT! My mum has a particular move I like to call the "'70s Shoulder Dance". She leans over, chin jutting out, hands raised almost to her shoulders, and sort of waggles about. Apparently that's how they all danced in the 70s. Hmmm...

Sarah said...

You could just come along for the singing and air guitar Joe ... ;-)

So many more moves I haven't included NS, maybe your mum could come on board as a consultant??