Dancing Through The Worst Of It

(I am taking ballroom dance classes, and have just shown up rather early to the first session of the New Year. My dad just passed away on December 14, so obviously I had a difficult Christmas. Because I’m so early, I’m making small talk with the manager of the dance club, who is the only other person there.)

Manager: “So, how was your Christmas?”

Me: *cautiously* “Oh… it wasn’t that great really.”

Manager: “What? But it’s Christmas! Come on. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Me: “Actually, it was probably the worst Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Manager: “Wow, what happened?”

Me: *not wanting to be one of those people who overshares personal information* “Umm, family stuff.”

Manager: “Oh, come on. Look at it this way: at least you HAVE a family!”

(At this point I can’t stay quiet anymore, as I have a morbid sense of humour and he’s given me a perfect set-up.)

Me: *deadpan* “Actually, my dad died.”

(He splutters about how sorry he is, and I feel a bit bad for him. Just then another girl walks up to us. The manager turns to her quickly to save face.)

Manager: “You! How was your Christmas?”

Girl: “Pretty sucky. My house burned down.”

Manager: *shocked and speechless*

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. My dad died this Christmas.”

Girl: “I’m so sorry! At least we’re pushing through it though, right?” *we high-five each other*

Me: “So, [Manager], how was YOUR Christmas?”

Manager: “IT WAS FINE. PERFECTLY FINE. NO REASON TO COMPLAIN.”

(We all had a good laugh about it. That was the first time I’d laughed since before my dad passed, and it was also the moment I realized I would be okay!)