Dear Rick Coffey:
I had never heard of you before a month ago when my work friend Yu-Shan asked if I wanted to go to one of your events.
I often say “yes” to plans because I know I need to get out of the house (and I do like to try new things).
Then in true introvert-in-training style, I have regrets when the day arrives.
Anyway, I went.
Sir, you’ve created a cult.
I was immediately horrified that I was going to have to try dance fitness with all these people — people who were stretching!
I’m still scarred from Zumba.
Fun fact: I’m not super coordinated.
I do love line dancing, but that only involves two appendages. If I have to involve my arms, that’s a problem.
It’s why I didn’t make drill team or the cheerleading squad.
I expected you to go through the steps, and I would enter a period of self loathing.
But it was a free-for-all in the very best way. There were 100+ people there, and no one was looking at anyone but you and your squad.
And you aren’t what I expected to look at. For someone who now makes a living leading dance fitness classes, I was surprised to see your dad bod.
And thrilled, if I’m honest.
Fitness comes in all sizes, and there was no shame on display. It was fantastic.
I kept up with the moves to hits like “Country Grammar,” “Thong Song” and “Lady Marmalade.”
By “kept up,” I mean “remained alive and upright.”
My Apple watch gave up. The shock of me doing cardio was too much.
My phone, which was in my pocket, refused to record my efforts.
Even my underboob sweat had sweat.
You have a catch phrase — “evolve unapologetically” — and were selling merch emblazoned with it. But it was this one that caught my eye.
I was a solo artist, for sure.
Was it good for me? Yes.
Did I enjoy it? As much as I could.
Will I go back? Maybe.
You know who did love it? My cute, energetic, fit friend.
Ultimately, I’m impressed by you and your operation. Totally worth the $25.
My padded hide and I thank you.
Sincerely,
Beth
*Everybody Wang Chung tonight.
Observe and report 