Long story short, I discovered that one of my students was quite a dancer in her pre-college years. She picked up on something I was saying, and looked me and asked if I was a ballet dancer.
Um, yeah… I’m like the best ever (heavy on the sarcasm). Why do you ask?
I then look down and I’m standing in fifth. I forget what I originally said for her to question me. It may have been something in unnecessary French. I really should ask her just what it was.
Anyway, she says it’s been years since she last she was in leotard and tights but had an urge to at least give a class a shot, or take the plunge and buy a class card. She threw in the towel in high school when she discovered that it was nice to have a social life. Nearly her entire life was wrapped up in ballet, with seven of those years en pointe. (Maybe I should ask her for some pointe tips.)
I’m all like, that’s f-ing cool, I like Big City Fancy Pants Company School.. yardda, yadda yadda, you should do it. Come to the Monday or Thursday night class, you’ll like them. Plus your first class is free. You know, the same way crack dealers get people hooked.
Sure enough dear readers she did show, no point shoes, but hey at least she came. It went well for not doing anything in years. Hopefully she will come to ballet tomorrow.