Werk it, ladies.

Imagine.

A room full of woman averaging over the age of 65, dancing provocatively to Latin club songs and whooping as they do it. March, march, werk dem hips.
And then, just as you think maybe Latin songs are as bad as it's going to get, another song comes on. And the ladies start a-whopping.
I'm Sexy and I Know It.
And this was our morning. We had the brilliant idea to go to Zumba, because we're gonna get so fit its not even funny. 

That's not even the worst part. The second half of the class was strengthening and conditioning. With these ten-pound poles, we were forced to do tricep lifts, which we could not stinking do. After like half of them, we went idle and faked it, while these ladies are laughing and whooping worse than a class of middle-school girls. Is this what retirement is like?

And, boy, did I (Elle) make a faux pas... While we did these modified push-ups, I turned to Lise and said - quite loudly, in fact - "These are like the Grandma push-ups-" I cut myself off as soon as I realized that we were in a whole room filled with Grandmas. Needless to say, I shut my mouth after that. I didn't want their clique to descend upon us.

So that was Zumba. And what especially weird it that, isn't Zumba supposed to be like Latin dancing and stuff? Why the heck did we dance to Cotton Eye Joe?

Elle and Lise