Dancing never interested me but when i was a teenager in the late 50s i was dragged to a dance school to learn ballroom dancing as this was still a regular activity at the palais de dance on humberstone gate,we were getting left behind in the girl stakes as we just stood like wallflowers whilst the other lads waltzed off with the local talent literally, my friend insisted that we took dance lessons and we duly enrolled at a dance school that was run from a private house on the Hinckley Road /Fosse road junction, the lady instructor was adamant that we should always look her in the eyes whilst dancing the quickstep, the lady was quite tall and my mate was about 5ft 2" so he had problems looking up at her face, i was almost six foot and was able to look directly into her eyes, my mate was lucky as her breath smelt like a Saffron estate postmans socks on giro day, she had bad breath that could have stripped wallpaper , it was that pungent it would have made a gorillas armpit smell like perfume, i had to keep turning my head away to stop myself throwing up and she was becoming really agitated about this as she had no idea what the problem was, needless to say neither did my pal and he was annoyed that i refused to return to the dance class,we never did go back to the school but the twist and shaking it about dancing took over from ballroom so the problem was ok ,I suppose the moral of this story is that there are times when its an advantage to suffer with dwarf syndrome. very pc i don't think !!