Handbag Vodka: Zumba

Every scouse bird knows it's not all about the fake tan and the eyelashes, to look good you've got to permenantly be on the salad graft and ideally get your arse off the couch from watching re-runs of Desperate Scousewives crying and thinking "It could've been me" and do a bit of exercise. The way I like to squeeze this in is by goin to Zumba.

I started going to Zumba about a year ago cos I'd just turned 26 and was having a quarter life crisis (1. Yeh that's a real thing and 2. That's a blog for another time), I'd heard it was the new in thing, and me being on the cutting edge of cool obviously, I thought I'd give it a go.

I don't know if anyone of you are a Friends fan but my first attempts at Zumba class were very much like Phoebe jogging. I was all over the show. I've never bothered learning to drive because although when I think about it I can tell left from right if you put me in a split second pressured decision I'll invariably say the wrong one. The amount of times I've been pissed and told the taxi driver I live in the last house on the left (I blame the film) when I really mean the right just doesn't bear or bare (never know the right one to use for that) thinking about. I like to call it directional dyslexia...I don't know if that's a real thing or not - It is now cos I say so. Anyway bit by bit I started pickin the moves up and every time I mastered a new step I felt like the dogs danglies and a career as a backing dancer for Marcus Collins was a dead cert. It wasn't, I still looked like a bad ming flailing all over the show. I still love it though - Zumba is an outlet for the inner 12 year old in me who used to make up dance routines in her bedroom to PJ & Duncan.

Now however, a year on and a dress size an a bit smaller without dieting and rocking me very own set of lady guns I've migrated to the front of the class and have my own spot an everything. God help anyone who tries to stand in my spot in class cos I will intimidate and snarl you the fuck out of it cos unless I'm hungover or daydreaming or worrying where hot gym instructor's lurking (see here for those who don't know THAT saga http://handbagvodka.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/mr-hot-gym-instructor.html) I'm now boss at Zumba. Unfortunately not everyone is as gifted as I. Not that I'm conceited or anything.

I'm convinced everyone has that one person that they could quite happily murder in cold blood and they wouldn't even be arsed. Mine is Fluffy Head who stands right in front of me - so called cos she has a fluffy semi balding lesbo haircut. I fucking hate her. I have secret fantasties that she'll drop down dead of a heart attack and yano what I'd blag I was on pay as you go and didn't have any credit so that no one would expect me to ring an ambulance. Why do I hate her so much?? Well let me tell you, she's been doin Zumba longer than I have and has NO rhythym. No rhythym AT ALL. None. I'm telling ya she's deffo shit in bed.

I'd have put money on her being a 64 year old virgin if she didn't sometimes bring her greasy haired, fila trainee wearing daughter. Fuckin hell, SHE's got even less rhythym than Fluffy Head and she wears pants that fall down so I'm affronted with her crack of doom raar in me grid while I'm trying to Samba. Because Fluffy Head insists on standing right in front of me, I have to memorise the moves so I can just go into autopilot and don't have to look at the teacher and therefore have Fluffy Head in my eyeline putting me off. I mean take some responsibility woman, if despite doing the same dance in excess of 100 times I didn't know when I was supposed to move the fuck forward I wouldn't stand in the front row of class and have 100 people behind me tripping over themselves in a chain reaction started by me. Get some co-ordination and get out of my sight. As if bringing her meffy daughter wasn't enough sometimes she brings a mate (also with zero rhythym - where is she getting these people from??), her mate offends my eyes. Her mate has no eyebrows. She's like shaved them off or something or plucked them to within an inch of their life and all I can think about doing is tripping her up, pinning her down and going to work on her with a scousebrow pencil. Drives me nuts the weirdo.

A fairly new addition to my Zumba class is Princess. I call her this cos she deffo thinks she is one. I imagine everything in her house to be perfectly neat, tidy, pink and frilly. I imagine that when she laughs she does a little squeak at the end. I imagine that she constantly flicks her ponytail. She deffo got bullied in school - I know this cos I badly want to bully her. She's tried to stand in my spot on a number of occasions - listen bitch, you can't just walk in here an go straight to the front of class, pay ur dues at the back and when Fluffy Head dies you can come and torment me in her spot. Dems the rules. One time Princess had the cheek to come and stand in @susielovesvodka's spot halfway through a class while she went to get a drink of water, just plonked her Zumba weights there. When Susie came back and moved them, Princess whined, actually WHINED "That's MMMMYYYYY SPOT!". Thought she was gonna burst out cryin the silly tart, get to the back I'm norassed. Go flick your hair and giggle squeak somewhere else.

The rest of the class are sound like, some people are good, some people will never get the moves but they have the good sense to stay out of my way. I'm sure every Zumba class has their pricks but don't let that put you off. In all seriousness I've never been into exercise but although I leave everytime drenched and I mean DRENCHED in sweat it never feels like a boring gym workout, it's fun. I've even been able to keep up with the Samba dancers on stage in Alma De Cuba - so it gets you fit, you have fun and it deffo makes you a better dancer. The only problem is if you hear a Zumba song when you're out in town you deffo won't be able to resist breaking out into a routine. Your choice.

Inabit

@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs

xxx

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