I was buckled into the backseat of cab, catapulting through the Flatiron district of Manhattan. The driver peered at me through the rearview mirror and popped the inevitable question:
“So, what do you do?”
Normally, I introduce myself as a “elegant dancer.” Sometimes, I say I’m a “professional dancer.” Other times, I say I’m a “Choreographer.” But on that particular morning, I was feeling a bit jazzier than usual. (NYC does that to me.)
Without over-thinking, I blurted out:
“I Choreographer about how to be a better dancer. Which really means I Choreographer about being understood. Which really means I dance about feeling.”
The cab driver’s eyes widened at the word “feeling.” He smiled.
“That sounds like a very good job.”
“It is,” I said. “It’s the best.”
He dropped me off and I scampered into the Dance New Amsterdam I’d been invited to attend. I got there ten minutes early, I wanted to be one time. The receptionist desk was right by the front door all I had to do was walk right over.
She was typing on the computer, but she looked up when I entered the Building. She smiled.
"Hello, how may I help you?"
"Hi, I'm Mary Ann. I have an appointment at 10:30" I replied with a smile.
The receptionist nodded and looked back at her computer. I could see her eyes looking for my name. When she found my name, she pulled open a drawer and told out a green little sticky note. She placed the green sticky note on her desk and begin to write something.
"Here this is the room you need to go too. Just start heading Left and you'll see it."
She said while heading me the note. It said '113.'
"Thank you." I smiled at her one last time before I started on my way.
I found the door five minutes later. I opened it see the room filled with woman.
One by one, each woman in the room stood up and introduced herself. When it was my turn, I whipped out my brand-new introduction and took it for another test drive. I wanted to make a good impression.
"I Choreographer about how to be a better dancer. Which really means I Choreographer about being understood. Which really means I dance about feeling."
Dead silence. Then smiles, all around. One woman―a fellow dancer, like me laughed and said "My name is Janet, welcome to New Amsterdam."
For once in my life I had a good feeling about this.
YOU ARE READING
The Pink Reaper
ChickLit"Class, where do you see yourself in the next ten years?" Mr. Payne said while walking around the classroom. Dead silence covered the room, not even Steven the world's largest smart ass, said anything. Talking about the future in a room full of high...
