bye-bye, boom-say
Sadly, my days at the old lap-of-luxury gym -- and therefore at the boom-say class -- are numbered. It's too far away from my house and too expensive; I can get a much cheaper membership at the less tricked-out one that's literally across the street. (I'm sure the new gym will be fodder for enjoyable stories at some point, though, because it's populated almost entirely by unbelievably attractive gay men who appear to spend at least four or five hours a day in the gym making themselves even more scarily ripped.)

Yesterday's boom-say class, though, entered uncharted territory: There was a man in the class, a very short Latino man who tried to sneak into the back about 3/4 of the way through. He had on running clothes and big white sneakers, and of course everyone noticed immediately.

Woman in the back of the room named Heather: Kukuwa! A man! There is a man back here!
Other women near him: A man! Woooooooo!
Kukuwa demands that we give the man a hand. Everyone claps. She starts the music for the next song and abruptly turns it off.
Kukuwa: This will not do. Come up here. Up here next to me and the mirrors.
The man goes up next to her. Everyone "woooo"s again. It turns out the man's name is... wait for it... Alfredo. Oh yes, Alfredo.
Kukuwa, starting up the music again: Class, did you know I am in love with Alfredo? I am in love with him. Our very first man. I am so proud.
Alfredo says something unintelligible, because he does not have a microphone.
Kukuwa: Come, Alfredo, you and I will dance! This is Africa, and in Africa we dance!

And Alfredo ROCKED OUT. It was fantastic. A banner day in Africa.