All Work & No Play

Apparently, he just couldn't hack it.

The goatee'd SNAG (Sensitive New Age Guy) who riskily participated in my chick-heavy Tribaret (see the earlier post) belly dance class was a no-show by week 2 of the new 6-week session. Now, typically by the second week or so the class thins by roughly half, so his lack of physical presence was not completely unusual, though being that he was the only male person in attendance his absence was not only glaringly obvious, it personally provoked some wild speculation on my part.
It could merely be, of course, that something untoward occurred in the interim, such as a pulled groin muscle or a blown Subaru gasket or, God forbid, the unintentional ingestion of some manner of animal product which commenced to wreak bloody (perhaps literally) havoc on his pristine Vegan innards. Just something that might throw a major wrench into the belly dancing aspirations of a contentedly in-touch kinda guy.
Admittedly, and in spite of my personal observation that beholding his attempt at Snake Arms invoked more of a Joe-Cocker-onstage-at-Woodstock rather than a fluid, seductive, Dance-of-the-Seven-Veils kind of sensation, I'll never truly know, and like I said, this is all, of course, just wild speculation on my part anyway.
Of course, it's also feasible that he's not actually vegan, and maybe he didn't pull a groin muscle, nor does he drive a Subaru and maybe, in fact, maybe he's actually planning to show up next week, and the week after that, and the week after that for a little Yoni-vs.-Lingam dance-off.
Just maybe.
Though I wouldn't bet my taqsim on it.