Sunday, 23 January 2011

Went to Zumba with 'A' this afternoon. Bit apprehensive as it is a different teacher on a Sunday and wasn't really sure what to expect. There was an enormous fat woman there which cheered me up immensely. (Major respect to her though. I find it hard so goodness knows how she managed).  Was expecting a room full of skinnies and gym bunnies with it being the weekend. During the week the class is full of pensioners, mummies who have got shot of the kids to school and one guy. Have not quite sussed his reasons for attending a Zumba class full of women but what ever lights your candle. It wasn't too bad, saw some of the weekday regulars and some new folk too. The instructor obviously had high expectations for us all. I sneaked in at the back behind a spray tanned tubby chick in a bra top which was too tight and displayed not so much a six pack as a full barrel.  A sight for sore eyes. The instructor started off with a salsa, then a samba, then finally just as my legs where about the give out a Bollywood number. The steps were just too much for me and by the end I was past caring and just kept laughing out loud. It would appear I can just about manage stuff on the spot but deviate in any direction from it and I am seriously in trouble. Like Cheesy's classes better. I am familiar with the routines and actually manage not too bad. Going back next week though,  'Project Ass Shrink' is well on the way and I am quite happy to endure the humiliation.

Today's Random Irritation ;  Those ruddy serve yourself checkouts in Morrison's. Went with A for a few things on the road home from Zumba. Why does it have to keep telling you in tone that obviously means it  thinks your a simpleton. 'Place your item in the bag' after every bleeding item?  Of course I had the wonky checkout ( it saw me coming) and realised too late I had told it to 'Eff Off' in frustration. I am now a confirmed nutcase......