So the neighbs and I have been taking these tango classes, right? And we're getting to where we feel marginally competent. At least I am getting to where I feel we're getting marginally competent (or, as the neighbs expressed to me last night, we feel I am getting marginally competent). Anyway, we're taking the "advanced beginners" class for the third -- yes, the third -- time.
Lest you judge us for only being advanced beginners after all this time (we've been in class with several people much less adept than us who consider themselves intermediate by now)you should keep in mind they recommend taking this class at least twice. But as a consequence for taking our time, we have this girl in our class now who looks like what would happen if Cruella DeVille and Betty Page got mashed into the same person, gained fifteen pounds and decided to sign up for tango lessons in Ann Arbor Michigan and make everyone's life just a little more obnoxious. The neighbs inadvertently nicknamed this unlikely character "grumpopussy" and I laughed until I snorted. The name stuck, of course.
This is a girl who plucks her eyebrows out and pencils them back in, for real. Who wears f**k-me shoes so naturally that you wonder if her feet might actually be cloven. Who is vehement and even noisy about how much she still loves D&D. Who, in case you're wondering, can't dance tango for shit, but will stop at nothing to derail the entire class until she gets her imbecile questions answered.
Last night she started in undermining the point the instructor was trying to make. Excuse me, she said. You're saying not to shift weight onto your front foot, but your back foot is completely off the ground. How is that possible if you're not shifting your weight? Never mind that everyone else understood exactly what he had meant. I bet she did too, she's just, you know, one of t h o s e people.
Later, some inane thing came up where she made this public service announcement to All Leaders of Tango Dances Everywhere in which she reminded them that it is their job to publicize to her their decision to dance on the opposite foot in order that she can respond accordingly. Even though their change of footing should not in any way affect her ability to dance the same as always -- that is, provided she is on the same planet as her partner.
Which is what the instructor told her, of course. Perhaps I'm not making myself clear, she said, and said the same thing over again. For half an hour.
Finally someone pointed at her and said, can you please deal with her separately after class? I just want to dance, NOW. Which in a vacuum would have been really pretty rude but under the circumstances seemed downright diplomatic, and allowed the evening to resume the course 30 people were hoping for, instead of just Grumpopussy.
Talking it over later with the neighbs, I expressed that I thought in spite of everything, Grumpopussy is going to turn out to be a really great tango dancer, if she doesn't quit first. Either 1.)she'll get disgusted with these amateurs from whom she clearly has nothing to learn and go do something else, 2.) some bigger bully than herself will strike just the right tone while handing her ample, vintage-clad ass to her, or 3.)she'll just learn to shut the hell up and listen to what another human being on the planet has to say for a change. She's just weird and tenacious enough that I'm going out on a limb to predict outcome #2 or #3.
The neighbs of course thinks I'm insane. But here's the thing. This summer, I had the pleasure-spiked-with-pain of working with Lulurias for the 2nd year in a row. Another person you can only wish was anti-social. And my friend Angélica, who is no contest the best teacher I have ever seen in action, handed her ass to her in velvet gloves. Why do you bother, I asked her? She's never going to change, you know. And Angie said, somewhere, somehow, someone's going to get through to her. Which is why Angie is no contest the best teacher I've ever seen in action: she's never off-duty.
My point is, here's to Grumpopussy. Yesterday, my first day teaching again, I told my students they damn well better ask questions in my class. So it's hypocritical for me to want to stick an ice pick through that freaky freaky forehead of hers for doing the same thing. Even though I do very much wish to stick an ice pick in her. But if I'm going to be a teacher, I have to start believing in people's ability to change, and in my ability to change them, I guess is what I'm trying to say.
Anybody seen an ice pick lying around? I swear I just had one right here.
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