In Which Farmer John Successfully Gets In His Pants

From earlier this evening (pardon the epileptic-fit inducing camera shake... I was laughing so hard and trying to be so quiet and the camera was all over the place. John thought I was taking pictures and didn't realize I was filming, which made it all the MORE hilarious):

A bit of backstory: yesterday John and I met with our yet-unkown new favorite people in Greece, Christina and George. Christina came with the endorsement "one of my best friends in the whole wide world" from my favorite real estate agent in New York, so there was no way we COULDN'T track her down and make her hang out with us. George was a super bonus extra, i.e. Christina's boyfriend. Both are Greek, although Christina mainly grew up in the states.

Needless to say, John and I had the BEST time out with them - Christina took us all around Athens and told us WHAT everything was and WHERE everything was and then George and Christina led us to this magnificent little eatery with all of this tasty meat and french fries and magical spicy tomato and feta dish that I want to eat every day.

Anyhoo, turns out she and George are avid and talented tango dancers (this is, in fact, how they met, and that's them dancing on the left there) and so TONIGHT they took John and I out to TANGO. It took a bit of convincing on John's part - he's a self-declared bad dancer. It's not that he doesn't LIKE to dance, he's just been scarred occasion upon occasion by others not responding well to his moves. But! Luckily I had declared just two days previously that one of my goals for this adventure was to teach him to dance, so he really had no choice.

Hence the struggle into his new, snazzy, tight fitting jeans.

As for the tango itself? AMAZING. George and Christina were fun, informative and patient teachers. By the end of the night, John and I were out on the dance floor with everyone else, doing a really good job of staying out of everyone else's way (okay, pretty good job) and honing our 8 step move. We were also the only ones out there collapsing into hysterical fits of laughter, but we're working on our game faces. By the time we strut our stuff again for Christina and George in a few months, we're going to be as passionately serious and debonair as everyone ELSE on the dance floor.

And oh yes, John's dancing phobia? It downgraded into just a strong fear. Boo yeah.