A Bad Day

Dear Bad Zumba Instructor,

Wednesday was a pretty rough day. Work had a few rough spots and some not so nice clients. On my way to the bus, a bird pooped on my backpack. And I didn't notice until I got on the bus and smeared it with my hand. Yeah. But I had Zumba to look forward to.
First you were late. You're a sub so I gave you some slack. You didn't apologize for being late. You didn't know how to use the stereo which I forgave until you said you've taught at this gym before. You pulled out a stack of CDs and started shuffling through them. Fifteen minutes after class should have started we start. Yes, your style is a lot different than our normal teacher which was great. I was looking forward to shaking my booty. But then you started doing some complex dance steps with little instruction. You changed the steps mid-song and direction with no warning. People started leaving the class in groups.
I stuck it out. I love Zumba. I'd been looking forward to a great workout all day. But you kept stopping to change the CD-4 times in 45 minutes. Then you started telling us the steps in Spanish. Other than you, I can bet that no one understood more than uno, dos, tres. Then you stopped providing any instruction. The girl next to me almost got squished between me and the girl on her left. Half the class was going right and the rest was going left. You were moving forward. Oh and by the way when the class is at the back of the room how are we going to move back any more. I tripped on a stationary bike, lady.
Finally we reached the end of class. You led us through some stretches. As we did that you thanked us for coming to class. Then the cherry on top "If you didn't enjoy this class, there is always the treadmill!" Seriously. I don't come to Zumba to use the treadmill. If I ever see you teaching a class again, you bet I won't stick around.
Here's hoping Thursday is better.