There's trouble in my paradise. Oooops. I went too far. I take bellydance class with one of the top bellydancers in the country. So she put on an event called a "hafla" tonight at a latin dance studio. Tickets were $20. in advance and $25. at the door. I'd been to one party at this studio, and knew that they were overpriced for the quality of the food, so I decided to buy 2 tickets in advance to save the $10.
I told my husband a couple of days ago that I had bought these tickets for Saturday night, so not to plan our usual Saturday at the Greek restaurant (which we both enjoy, even though my kids say we are boring because we always go to the same restaurant).
Anyway, we get to the hafla. It is loud, dark, except for some extremely bright flashing lights that hurt my eyes, and the food is just OK, with not much choice. It's crowded, and loud, loud music. So we eat the food and my husband says he wants to go get a pizza. I told him fine, go.
That was about 8:45. So I stay and they do the first set of bellydancing. Most of it is students from my classes who are women with moderate skill, but not professional, and then some really overweight dancers from other studios. At 10 they took a break from the performances, and put on very loud Zumba music (which I really hate.)
So I go outside and try calling my husband. He doesn't have his cell phone and I don't know where he is. I go back inside and tell people that I've been abandoned. But my teacher's husband has shown up, and I start talking to him, so things got better. Then they say 5 minutes, the performances will start again.
Then my husband comes back and says he's been there for a while, but couldn't find me? Yeah, maybe. I was right at the table he left me at. So they start dancing again. Now we have some really fat dancers with veils over their faces doing a 10 or 15 minute Indian bellydance. It just goes on and on. My husband says he will wait outside.
4 more dances, and finally, my wonderful teacher performs. She is of course, wonderful, but with such bad lighting, who would know?
So it is 11:30. My husband pats me on the back and says "Are you ready to go?" I said yes, and we leave.
In the car he tells me that I am never to buy tickets to anything without discussing it with him, and he is very angry at me. So we rode home in silence. Now he is in the bedroom, watching tv, and I am talking to you. Don't really want to go into the bedroom.
I guess he doesn't want me to show him my new bellydance routine tonight. Funny, that usual gets him going!
