I’ve never watched another females arse quite as intently as I did on Monday night.

Monday was my first ever Zumba class. Zumba, for uninitiated, is the latin dance/aerobics craze that has taken over the world. Well, taken over our office anyway.

Miss B, who works with me decided to give it a go as she has longed to get back into dancing for quite some time. Normal dancing however, requires quite a few lessons before you are let loose on a proper dance floor. With Zumba on the other hand, you just dive on in and have a go.

And dive in we did. Holy hell, it was one solid hour of shaking my bum, hips and fingertips like a lunatic. Best way I can describe it - a cross between dancing like Shakira, Beyonce' and a little bit of locomotion, all rolled into one. Never before, has having a gigantic arse, come in such handy.

The best thing? Everyone looked as unco as me. Well, not everyone, but I wasn’t alone. That’s the best thing about Zumba. You are only one, in at least another 100 other, equally clueless women. Even after a few classes, no one is a master. Not like Step Aerobics, where some chicks are going for it like they are in the running for step-olympics gold.

By the time “All the Single Ladies” came on, we all had it at least half sussed. We were, in no uncertain terms, making it clear, if he liked it, he should have put a ring on it. With our arses.

And how lucrative is this caper for the instructor? Sure they have to be super fit and talented, but just look at these figures. On average, a class of 150 x $10 per class = $1,500. They do 7 of these classes a week. Working basically 7 hours a week for $10,500. Give or take. FAR OUT. Attention Brain surgeons: Drop those scalpels and whip on some lycra pants Sir, you’re in the wrong game.

What also surprised me was the lack of men there. What an absolute untapped, gold mine for guys! Women J-Lo’ing it up, exercise pheromones coursing through their bodies. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it’s like a Zumba Fernwood, but I’m guessing it’s only so long until word gets around town.

Weirdest part is, two days later, not one aching bone in my body. I’m sure it’s on it’s way, just lulling me into a fall sense of security, leading me to believe I can start running marathons and then, bam – knockout.

But, we’ll be back, because everyone who goes, just wants to one day, be as good as the instructor or master the hip swivel. Not going to happen, but it’s the trying that is the fun part.
And the best bit is, you don’t realise you’re exercising, you’re too busy making sure you don't take out the lady beside you with a ill-timed arm shunt or trip over your own feet, that, before you know it, it’s time to wind down to Janet Jackson.

The instructor at the class I went to is a registered nurse. Handy.