I have a strange predilection for embarrassing group exercise

Dear Monday afternoon Zumba instructor,

Thank you very much for kindly welcoming me into your class and assuring me that I “didn’t need to worry if I wasn’t getting it initially” and that I’d “get it eventually” if I kept coming. Contrary to appearances, this wasn’t actually my first Zumba class, but let’s not revisit my previous blustering attempts back in the day.

I have a few questions for you.

Why is Zumba held in a room that is covered in mirrors? While you were the perfect blend of athletic and sultry, my attempts called to mind descriptors more in the realm of “pudgy and robotic.” I would really much prefer to just look at you the entire time and delude myself that my movements resemble yours, instead of looking vaguely like an overweight chicken.

Is it possible to turn the music down to a dull roar? I enjoy jamming out to Pitbull on full volume like any other human, but please, I get anxious that everyone on the block will hear and try to join the party, only to find my mockery of hip shaking and/or body rolls.

What is your hair routine? Seriously, your hair looked really nice.

Keep on keepin’ on,

Jade

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