The Chubby Chic Cha-Cha

i fill out an equinox online form that gives my name, address, telephone number, and the location i want to join. within about 35 seconds, my cell phone rings and it is Eddie, the equinox sales king. He tells me that he'll leave me a pass for the 7:30 dance class (my choice) and i should come and meet him afterwards at 830. I plan my gym outfit for the entire day because there is an abundance of pressure being the chubby chub in a dance class. You see, i feel i owe to my fellow fat people to produce a flawless routine and exude incredible stage presence. And, I have to look good. I wear an all black ensemble because I only own black clothes. I'm excited about this because one thing that i can definitely do is cut up some rug (the dance floor kind, not the lesbian kind). that's right skinny equinox bitches, this fat girl can dance. i walk in a couple minutes late and the dance teacher who looks at me, stops the class and says
"This is a dance class"
I smile and say "great"
He says "Level 2/3" and tilts his head and looks slightly constipated.
I look at him like he just threw up out of his neck and realized that he doesn't think i can do this. I want to say "what? you think i can't dance? is it because of my middle that wiggles and jiggles? Are you implying that this chubby chic can't keep up? well, eat my dancin' dust you dancin' fairy". And he does. I go through the warm up with grace and style and he announces in front of the class, "Oh good, you're a dancer" and continues to say nice things to me throughout the class in hopes to make up for his lack of support at the beginning of the class. Every time he says something the entire class looks at me. My outside says, "I'm a beautiful dancer and am having a ball" but my insides are saying "They're looking at me! They're looking at me! Do the like my pants? Is my shirt pulled down enough?". And on it goes. We do a routine to the new soundtrack of Rent which is hilarious t me. The teacher is someone who didn't quite make it on Broadway and is not teaching aerobics. The rest of the class is made up of angry people who are mad at their mothers for not allowing them to follow their dream to be a Broadway star. They dance like they are at an audition and smile like they're in a toothpaste commercial.

i take my final bow at the end of the class and go downstairs to meet Eddie. We meet and go into his office. the guy tells me that he has a degree in such and such and a masters in business-something and something else. So I, in true form, say to him "why are you working at Equinox?" He goes into this whole song and dance about how he got laid off from verizon, blah blah blah. He proceeded to ask me questions that I answered politely and was surprised when he has strinkingly similar answers to me. Per example,
When's your birthday?
April 19,
Really? mine's April 20! That's wild!
Your last name ends in sky, are you Russian?
I suppose, when my great grandarents ran naked from the pogroms
OH MY GOD! I'M RUSSIAN!
You have a visa card! me too!
you just took a breath! oh my god! we have so much in common.
In the moment, i was wondering if i was joining the gym just to get this guy to stop talking to me. he gives me a quick little tour of the place, which was slightly unnessecary because i have already made up my mine. Equinox is the place for me. Equinox is my cacoon and i will come out of there a butterfly. equinox will be the source of enlightenment for the next year (because that's how much i paid for).