Not Tickling Your Fancy

| Learning | November 21, 2016

(It is our last Friday class and we have to put barres away by unscrewing them from the feet and hanging them. Two of my friends are having a sleepover.)

Friend #1: *tickles [Friend #2]*

Friend #2: “If you’re just gonna tickle me, then I don’t wanna sleep with you.”

Me: “[Friend #2]! So forward!”

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The Curse Of The Irish

| Learning | August 17, 2015

(We are in dance class, discussing whether we should organise a cultural smorgasbord for some younger students.)

Teacher: *mid-explanation* “…so you would teach the kids a short sequence, and each bring in a sample of food from your chosen country.”

Student #1: “I don’t want to do this!”

Teacher: “Why not?”

Student #1: “I’m doing Irish dancing! What’s Irish food? That’s basically just… potatoes?”

Student #2: “You could bring in chips! Those are potatoes!”

(Student #2 pauses)

Student #2: “Or beer!”

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He Can Hop Along Back To Jerksville

| Friendly | October 31, 2014

(I am a large woman, but I am quite graceful and a pretty good dancer. I typically have a good time at these swing dances, but always encounter at least one jerk who doesn’t want to dance with the ‘fat girl.’ This night was no exception.)

Jerk: “Man, all of the girls tonight are newbies. None of them know how to Lindy!”

Me: “Oh, I love the Lindy Hop! It’s one of my favorites! Want to dance next song?”

Jerk: *snorts* “As IF I would dance with a cow like you! Stop trying to impress me by lying. I’m not interested.”

(At that moment, my friend, who is one of my favorite dance partners, walks by and stops dead in his tracks.)

Friend: “I’ll dance with you, [My Name].”

Jerk: “Come on, dude. She can’t dance!”

Friend: “I’ll take my chances.”

(We went out to the middle of the floor and we did a very complicated routine, all the while not breaking eye contact with the jerk. About half an hour later…)

Jerk: “So… do you want to—”

Me: “Nah. Remember, I can’t dance!”

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Losing The Name Game

| Romantic | June 21, 2012

(My fiancé and I have signed up for ballroom dancing classes. When we arrive, there is a sign-in sheet. My fiancé grabs the pen, writes his name, and then pauses before writing mine.)

Me: *jokingly* “You forgot how to spell my name?”

Fiancé: “Worse.”

Me: “You forgot my name?”

Fiancé: “Um, yes?”

Me: “Well, here’s a hint. It starts with ‘L’, and it rhymes with ‘sorry’!”

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When Push Comes To Shove, Don’t

| Right | March 14, 2012

(We are holding an audition for our company’s new season. We will often take dancers who aren’t as technically trained if they are easy to work with.)

Dancer: “Hello? Can you please take my forms? I’m ready to audition.”

Me: “I’m sorry, you’re number 256 and we’re only calling numbers 110-114 right now. You’ll have to wait.”

Dancer: “Are you f***ing kidding me? I’ve already been here an hour!”

(She tries to shove her papers in my hand.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to wait with the rest of the dancers.”

(She tries to shover her papers in my hand again.)

Me: “I’m sorry—”

(Suddenly, she storms into the audition out of turn and complains about how I won’t let her dance to our casting director. They let her dance only because she refuses to leave. After her “audition”…)

Dancer: “Do you think I made it?”

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