Milan Style

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three... Oh crap, I messed up.

"You're thinking too much, smart girl."

"I know, I'm sorry!"

I was dancing the salsa — or was it the bachata? — at Salsa Mississippi in Fondren, and my dance partner noticed that my brain was trying to lead my feet. Sounds logical, right? But linear thought and Latin music don't mix.

(Later, I found out he'd studied psychology in college. Go figure. But then again, just about anyone would've seen my mind's wheels turning.)

I should've had a drink before dancing.

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It's like when I play piano and I either decide to stop and "correct" myself after every wrong note, or push through the mistakes and enjoy the music. The latter approach yields better results most of the time.

And, fellow Christians, can you imagine how our spiritual lives would improve if we actually followed Jesus, as he commanded? We can either stop and stare at our shoes after every sin, or we can repent, get back in the rhythm and let him lead.

Anyway — despite my stone cold sober, lead-foot brain, I had more fun salsa dancing than I'd had in a long time, doing anything.

First of all, this place was like "Dirty Dancing" without the dirt: The music was poppin', everybody danced with everybody else, and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves.

If any men were there just to creep on women, I didn't see it. A variety of skin colors and nationalities swirled around the room. The lights were dimmed, but the streetlights outside provided plenty of illumination.

In other words, this was a "dance club" in the best sense of the word. Energetic, not sketchy. If you require a little white tablet to get you high here, you need help.

It all came down to the dancing. The dancing was so. Much. Fun.

So yes, I tend to overthink stuff. But it's hard to mess up too bad when a dude is swinging you around in the right direction.

Also, salsa wasn't as tough as I expected. Basically if you've tried to learn ballroom dancing, imagine it being less difficult, and with better music.

Bachata was even easier than salsa, and the merengue was delightfully simple: Left, right, left, right. All hips. That's it.

OK, I'll admit: The dance partner I mentioned above had to make me close my eyes at one point so I'd stop analyzing and just dance. That helped, too.

I said everybody danced with everybody else: The owner, one of the instructors, a regular, and a random guy who'd taken that evening's class each extended his hand to me at some point. The owner tends to twirl you a lot, which was fun. All of them were gracious about my lack of ability.

As I write this column, I'm about to drive to Arkansas for the wedding of two dear friends. I'm excited to see if anyone at the reception can salsa. Either way, I intend to enjoy the music.

More info on Salsa Mississippi

As recently as a decade ago, Salsa Mississippi was doing house parties and lessons with no space of their own. Then they turned a Fondren house into a studio by knocking out the walls. They've since moved into a space on Duling Avenue.

On Saturday nights, they host a free beginner's salsa class at 9 p.m., and then at 10 it turns into a Latin dance party with a $10 cover charge. (Five dollars with military or college ID.) Beer and bottled water are available for purchase.

Besides salsa and bachata, Salsa Mississippi instructors also teach private ballroom and wedding dance lessons, and the facility also hosts zumba, yoga, hybrid kickboxing, tai chi and cardio classes.

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