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I stand on the edge of the dance floor watching couples glide, spin, and groove as they dance the West Coast Swing. The tempo of the music is fast, but the beating of my heart is faster. I want to dance, but I'm afraid I'm not good enough. 我站在舞池边，看着人们一对一对地在跳西海岸摇摆舞，他们滑动舞步、旋转着、享受着。音乐节奏很快，但我的心跳更快。我想跳舞，又担心跳得不好。 The song ends, and as another begins, a white-haired gentleman with a rakish smile offers me his hand and pulls me onto the floor, waving away my protests that I'm only a beginner. 一首乐曲结束，另一首开始了，一位浅色头发的绅士面带微笑向我伸出手，把我拉进舞池，我作为初学者的恐惧一扫而光了。 Okay. If he can do this, so can I. 好吧，如果他能跳，那我也能跳。 I manage to find a respectable groove, but whenever he tries to lead me in anything other than the basic steps, I stumble. All I can do is smile a lot and apologize even more. 我终于觉着自己跳得不错了，但他带着我跳基本舞步之外的动作时，我就会绊到。我所能做的就是多微笑，但更多的还是道歉。 After I've mumbled sorry for the tenth time, he laughs and says, "It's okay. You're blonde." | 
