So the Y that I go to made a beautiful new room for our fitness classes. I love it- the floors, the sound system- not so much the wall to wall mirrors. I'm not a fan of watching my self jiggle. These mirrors also let you see the people walking in the halls behind you.
Anyway, I was towards the back of the class- due to a hole in my stretch pants ( i didn't want to flash my hottie hanes her way!). We were towards the end of the workout and doing some crazy ass ab work with weights. The music was pumping a techno version of that song "young hearts run free" and I was feeling the burn...that and the cereal I ate. In the mirror I see a woman behind me walk into the class to see what was going on. She was in her late 50s rocking out a Mr. Brady perm. She was (no lie) wearing a ballet leotard ( emphasis on tard) with black stockings, complete with white L.A. Gear sneaks and fold down socks. Did I forget the fanny pack with water bottle attachment?!? She proceeds to stand in the doorway of the room and dance- seriously- DANCE! She even threw a spin in for good measure. I had to stop looking when "pump up the volume" came on because I almost farted. really.