Just an old-fashioned girl

I was at a tribal dance residential course, at the weekend. I mostly dance and teach in an Egyptian cabaret style, but have become seduced by the fusion of belly dance, flamenco, ( any style that comes to hand, really,) that is Tribal Style (or American Tribal Style, if you want to follow one particular school of dance,). I eagerly signed up to a class that promised to give my Tribal a new edge of 'Hip Hip' attitude, to be drilled, for 1 and 1/2 hours by a charming sadist (or was she an optimist? Half my age, 3/4 my height, and 10 times my stamina.) whose 'warm up' left most of us for dead, never mind her 'little combinations'...
She said. 'We'll do the worm. Just imagine you are climbing into a tight tunnel...' She demonstrated. We gamely tried to follow her. Unfortunately, I seemed to get stuck in mine, and had to engage the emergency services to pull me out. That, though, was fortunate for the lady behind me, who needed resuscitation, after an enthusiastic attempt to 'pop'.
I'm just glad she didn't.
My point being, I suppose, that, in my mind, I'm throwing some shapes on the floor, with the best of them. In reality, I'm throwing out my back on the floor, in agony.
I can, really, actually, 'lock' without appearing to be having a seizure, but won't be appearing on a bit of lino, anywhere near you, soon.