Most of you probably already know what Wild Wild West is, but for any of you Houston newbies like me, Wild West is a bar. But not just any bar. According to my girlfriend, it's the biggest and best place to two-step in the city. It's been around for 20 years and it has an oak floor just for your boots. But guess what...I don't actually have cowboy boots, which could have been my downfall.
After watching the couples travel around the dance floor for about 30 minutes, I snagged myself a dance victim - oops, I mean partner.
I told him I had no idea what I was doing and his response was, "All you need to know is slow-slow-quick-quick-slow."
He was wrong. It turns out you need to know a little more than that.
I stumbled. I stepped on his toes (thankfully he WAS wearing boots). I was off beat. And I was glad when the four minute song was over because I sucked. Really, really sucked.
It's not as if I have no sense of rhythm. My salsa moves are pretty good, I can hold my own in a nightclub, and I did okay at my gay line dancing lesson earlier this month, so why couldn't I get the two-step?
Slumping down on my bar stool, I asked the guy sitting beside me what I was doing wrong. He was in his late fifties and he let me in on a little Texas secret: nobody was born to two-step.
Yup...it seems everyone who knows how to do it has taken lessons at some time or another. Either they were forced to learn it in gym class, at some bar somewhere, or snuck off and learned it at a dance school. He said that even he has been taking lessons for the last five years.
I still didn't feel any better about my dancing, but at least I know there is hope for me yet. And like Arnold Schwarzenegger said in Terminator 2, "I will be back."
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