Hell is other people - Jingle Jangle

  

After  a long hiatus due to an injury and laziness, I have started to return to the gym and, like many others, I’ve caught the Zumba bug. 

Let’s face it, once you’re over 40 you seldom get the opportunity to dance.  Clubbing days are over and, unless you go to a wedding, booty shaking is a thing of the past. 

And so, even if it’s a regulated routine with the same music every week, at least Zumba let’s me fool myself, on the odd occasion that I know the steps and can actually let go and feel what my body is doing, that I am dancing.

But, as with any class at a gym, I have to suffer the elites.  You know the people I mean. 

They start class by loudly greeting the instructor, as if they’ve known him their entire lives.  Then they lay claim to the part of the room in the front row, directly in line with the instructor.  And, of course, they know all the moves.

I don’t normally have a problem with these people, even if I do find them mildly annoying.  I just take my place in back row and try to keep up as much as I can.

But my Zumba class has one Elite who takes things too goddamn far.  She straps on one of those belly dancing scarves with the little jingly metal bits so that, through the WHOLE CLASS, you hear her ass tinkely-tinkling.

I mean, are you kidding me? 

Hell is other people.

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