Monday blues (and greys)

I don't know what it is about Monday nights, but as far as I can tell everything  interesting and cool to go along to seems to mysteriously contrive to happen on them. I'm now, at least in theory, triple-booked on a Monday, between blues (dancing), an LGBT community choir, and modern jive (also dancing). 

A lot of the time blues wins; I fell in love with it when I first started, obsessively went to every class for a couple of years, and it's now the dance in which I have enough skill to be able to really lose myself in it now and then. Which is profoundly good for my soul; especially when the music you're trying to express is blues, which deals with the bad days as well as the good ones. 

This week is the grand return to reality after Christmas, and I went along to choir for the early part of the evening on the principle that unless I want to stay single the rest of my life I should probably actually go to things where I meet other gay men. (Most crucially, other gay men who I know are gay, because apparently I didn't lock up my gaydar one night and someone nicked it and sold it for the scrap metal value - I'm so bad at figuring it out it verges on being a disability.) 

Fortunately the choir rehearsal finishes early enough that I can still get to blues in time for the social dancing, and that's what's pictured here. We hold classes and the social upstairs in a Latin American theme pub, which isn't the most natural setting you'd pick for blues; however, unlike our previous venue they'll still have us, and seeing Basque separatist graffiti in the toilets of your dance venue is wryly amusing if you happen to speak Spanish, which I do.

(Unedited apart from a crop; bracing the camera on your knee and photographing dancers mid-song is not the easiest way to get perfect framing!)