The Tension In Square Dancing

"Oh, we could go square dancing."

I stared at my wife with a blank expression on my face for what must have been 15 seconds, if not 30, 40 or 50 seconds. It was January 2, and she was brainstorming ways we could really have some fun in 2019. 

I was lukewarm on the idea. I'd only square danced once in my life  — in elementary school, in fifth grade. It was part of the gym class curriculum. To the best of my recollection, I didn't learn any other type of dance in gym that year, or any other year I attended elementary school. Why my gym teachers felt I had to learn the do-si-do and not, say, the foxtrot or the Viennese waltz, I'll never know.

The unit on square dancing did mark a major milestone in my life: the first time I'd asked a girl to dance with me. This was the sort of pressure I did not want or need in my life at the time, but my gym teachers apparently felt differently. They didn't leave me with much of a choice: I had to find a partner to dance with, and that was it.

You may find this hard to believe, but I was kind of awkward around girls in fifth grade. I didn't have many girl friends, and I hadn't asked them for much  — maybe a pencil sharpener once or twice. But all of a sudden, I had to ask one of them if she'd be willing to let me swing her round and round. That's quite a leap.

Somehow, after several days of panic, I pulled myself together just long enough to ask a girl to be my square-dance partner. And, somehow, she agreed. Without much enthusiasm, mind you, but it didn't matter much to me. She said yes, and we square danced, and then we moved on with our lives.

That was the last memorable exchange I had with a girl until five years later, when I would ask one out for the first time. (She said no.) And it would be another 25 years before I would dance with a female again. It was on my wedding day. 

No, that's not true. I danced with my prom date to The Cardigans song "Lovefool." Or, rather, I danced in the middle of a circle of friends while she watched. But that's a story for another day.

I told my wife I would go square dancing with her because I'm a good husband and that's what good husbands do — they square dance. As I told her on the subway ride to a square-dancing event a few days later, "Of course I would do this for you. I'd do anything for you. And I have every expectation that you'll do something for me someday."

The event was held inside a gym, so of course I had flashbacks to fifth grade, having to learn a new dance, having to find a partner. But it turned out to be much less stressful this time. I didn't have to ask a woman to dance with me. A woman asked me to dance.

She was one of the organizers, and she realized right away I was new to square dancing and needed someone who could lead me. She was more enthusiastic about it all than my fifth-grade partner was.

She was very patient with me, very helpful, as was everyone else I danced with that night. (Since my wife was also a beginner, we were split up and didn't dance together.) They encouraged me and offered instruction where necessary.

"Hold me tighter! With tension!" one partner said as I was swinging her.

"With my wife in the room?" I thought to myself.

My wife and I stayed for nearly two hours. It was a real workout. My button-down shirt and jeans were drenched in sweat. It was easily the most intense dance I've ever participated in, ahead of that time I played "Just Dance" on the Wii for a half-hour.

I had fun square dancing, much more fun that I figured I would. I'm glad my wife suggested it.

She still owes me one, though. I've already started brainstorming.