today was our first group rehearsal. basically all the male 'shelebs' and their partners got together to learn the mambo. there we were, five okes, nervously stretching before embarking on a five hour mambo odyssey in shoes that look like they've been stolen from Liewe Heksie's cupboard.
The costume lady asked me not to say bad things about the shoes that have been so kindly sponsored, and hey - thats super rad of them, i mean i wouldnt want to have to buy these shoes, but let me be quite clear when i say that Latin American dance shoes are right up there with those ridiculous Japanese shoes for ladies which make their feet into square planks of painful pain. The only difference is that with these shoes you dont end up walking like a concubine in an Ang Lee movie. oh no. it's more like Jesus, the greesy ten pin ball licking bowling alley psycho from the Big Lebowski. That's what i feel like at least.
My only consolation was that Suga Smax from Skwattakamp ( i hope i spelled that right , i'm not so hot with hip-hop spelling) had never worn his shoes before. Yup, he was a virgin. We all made it very clear what he was in for though. all the pain and the suffering we had experienced in breaking our feet in swept through the studio in a short outburst of nervous banter.
Ha ha, you gonna kak off bru
What? His first time? Shame.
Just wait till you really wear them in and the heel starts going. Yoh.
And then to the dancing.
The before lunch session was pretty chaotic, we were all pretty kak, and i'm sure i saw fleeting panicked looks sashay across the choreographers face at regular intervals.
It was cool to hang with the other couples a while, get a sense of who you think your main competition is, and also just get to know them a little bit and see how they are coping with this strange circus we have thrust ourselves into.
Post lunch we seemed to get the hang of things a little more and actually nearly pulled off some almost half decent group mambo vibes. The fact that we have world class proffessional dance partners does help in this regard. They are very good at hiding how kak we are.
A highlight of the afternoon was the post pizza symphony of creative digestion that Garth (Granite from Gladiators) launched into with unabashed gusto in a quarantined back section of the studio. I gladly provided some of my own accompanyment. I mean what were they thinking? Pizza, mambo and toit pant just don't mix.