Daily Prompt – Second-Hand Stories

What’s the best story someone else has recently told you (in person, preferably)? Share it with us, and feel free to embellish — that’s how good stories become great, after all.

I don’t necessarily have any stories to tell, I’m not the sort of person who finds themselves around people who tell these types of stories, per-se, instead I’m surrounded by braggers.

Daily Prompt – Third Rate Romance

Tell us your funniest relationship disaster story.

I can’t believe that I’m about to write this…

I remember this one night I was out clubbing with a group of friends, and in true cliched form, I saw this guy across the floor. Our eyes met and it was electric. Now, we had never actually met before, but we had seen each other out at the same venue once or twice. Up until this moment, I’d never actually noticed him. I was still dancing with my friends and he threw a smile my way.

I had one of those moments where I just assumed that he was smiling at me, but then realised that I could actually be horribly wrong, and he’s smiling at somebody else behind me instead, and I’ve just made a fool of myself. Well done. So because of this insecurity, I actually stopped dancing to turn around and look at all the other guys behind me, to see if I was right… I didn’t see anybody looking, but I might have missed it. Besides, he was the kinda guy that seemed somewhat untouchable. Ruggedly handsome, a great physique. You know the type – the tall, really attractive guy, that only is ever seen with other guys who look exactly the same. (SIDENOTE: just recently a new internet phenomenon on Tumblr has surfaced called ‘Boyfriend Twin’… you can check it out here).

This was one of those guys, and I was the complete opposite.

So after standing around looking like a bit of a dork, I turned back at this guy who was just sitting at the bar with a drink, and by this stage he was having a little laugh. He then pointed in my direction.

‘Me?’ I mouthed the words and pointed at myself with an inquisitive head tilt. He smiled, nodded and mouthed ‘Yes! You!’.

‘Really?’

He nodded again.

…and then I kinda ‘fan-girled’ out a bit. I called the guys in for a little huddle in the middle of the dancefloor and told them what had just happened. I felt like the cheerleader who was just asked to the senior prom by the captain of the football team. The guys were a bit surprised as much as I was, but told me to go for it. I almost didn’t even want to go over there and talk to him, simply for the fact that it would just be feeding his ego even more, but then I kinda knew it would seem rude if I didn’t.

…but not wanting to give in to his ego won me over, so I stayed on the floor dancing with my mates for a while longer. Sure enough, he danced his way over to me, and almost instantly, I realised that my friends had completely deserted me, and were all watching from the sidelines. I was soooo nervous. We couldn’t really talk much over the loud music, but he tilted his head, gesturing for me to follow him, and stretched out his hand for me to grab and follow him.

He led me out from the dancefloor and into another one of the bars, where we were able to catch some fresh air and actually hear each other talk. He introduced himself, and I tried as best as I could to play it as cool as possible. There was no way I could fan-girl out in front of this guy. I simply refused to. We spoke for a while, until one of my friends came over and interrupted, and whisked me off to the dancefloor and demanded that I tell him absolutely everything that was said during our conversation.

Just as I was finishing the relay of information, this guy, (let’s just call him Steve*) came back up and squeezed his way inbetween my friend and I – basically telling my friend to leave so he could dance with me. My friend was slightly offended and behind his back mouthed out ‘RUDE MUCH?!’ and went off to find the others.

Turns out Steve had seen me here a couple of times before, and loved watching my friends and I dance the night away. He enjoyed just sitting back and watching the people, as we both knew it could actually be quite an entertaining experience.

We knew that the club was going to be closing soon, and he asked me where we were planning on going afterwards. I said I wasn’t sure, but I’d ask the boys what they were planning on doing as they were also my ride home. Without hesitation he grabbed my head and turned it to the side and spoke directly into my ear “hows about I take you home after a late breakfast at my place?”

Whhaaaaaattt?? Was he…? did he just…? Does that mean…? I was a bit taken aback by him being so straightforward. Truth be told, I was quite terrified. I’d never gone home with a guy from a club before because it was something that really scared me. I’d heard so many stories about guys being drugged, raped and / or attacked by a guy they’ve gone home with. You don’t know this person. You don’t know if they’re genuine or if they’re a complete psychopath. It was that uncertainty that scared me the most, but I threw caution to the wind and agreed. I went to tell my friends what was happening and the reaction I got from them was a mixture of happiness, excitement and concern. Being the good friends that they were, and knowing that I was quite nervous, they said they would actually follow us to his place, note down the address just as a safety precaution. If I got scared, I had to send them a blank SMS and they’d be on their way immediately. It sounded extreme, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

We decided to leave and we walked to his car. He held my hand and even opened my door for me… what a gentleman…?! and we headed off to his place.

The in-car conversation was rather awkward. It was different seeing this guy in more adequate lighting – he looked rather different to the dark mysterious guy from the bar. If anything he was actually more attractive outside the club. We got the basics out of the way, what our names were and what we did for work, where we lived and what tv shows we were currently into. When we arrived in his driveway, I got a txt saying ‘ADDRESS CONFIRMED’ and I turned around to see my friends car drive past. I felt a sense of relief and he took my had and led me up the path to his front door.

He opened the door, which opened up to an open plan kitchen / dining / living area. A few dim lamps were already on to provide some mood lighting, and there was music softly playing in the background. I instantly cringed at this guys arrogance. He clearly left all this on in anticipation of brining somebody home. I guess it didn’t matter who it wAs. It was such an instant turn off, and my opinion of him began to begin dropping . He offered me a drink, and I just asked for water, the whole time watching him like a hawk just to make sure he didn’t slip something into my drink.

I’ve seen my fair share of horror movies. This is usually how it begins before you wake up in a bathtub full of ice and missing a kidney. For somebody so cynical, even I was amazed that I was standing in this guys kitchen!

We adjourned to his couch and just talked for a while. He could tell that I was nervous and I told him that I was nervous and quite intimidated because he was so attractive… But knowing that that would just inflate his ego too much, I quickly countered with a couple of remarks about how arrogant he seems to be… Using all these terrible cheesy ‘pickup lines’; leaving lights and music on to create ambiance for when he brought his trade home etc. He was quite taken aback by my honesty and started laughing. He told me that no guy has ever spoken to him like that before, and without hesitation I told him that I’m not like every other guy. He laughed again and started to stroke my arm telling me that he could tell I was different.

Conversation soon turned into kissing, and kissing soon led to clothes being removed. Soon enough he pulled back, stood up and led me down the hallway to a bedroom. He pulled me in close and we fell onto the bed and well… y’know… One thing led to another… But after a few minutes of heavy passionate kissing and hands going everywhere I noticed that, well, little Steve wasn’t too interested in saying hello.

Having never encountered this before, I really didn’t know what to do. There was an elephant in the room (and yes, pun definitely intended) that was being completely ignored. I couldn’t ignore it and asked him whether he was enjoying himself. He said he was and didn’t want me to stop kissing me. I kinda drew focus onto the deflated elephant and asked if he wanted me to leave. I wouldn’t be offended if he wasn’t interested. He exhaled loudly and it became immediately clear that I’d just humiliated him. He admitted that he had a bit of a problem, but he just took a little while to… Um… ‘Get the party started’. He said he didn’t need Viagra or anything like that, instead he asked me if I was into dirty talk. Having never tried it, it was kinda not the best situation to try it for the first time. I think I was just as embarrassed having to ask him to demonstrate, and when he did, I started giggling uncontrollably.

“You have got to be kidding me, right?!” Nope. He was serious. So I tried and felt so stupid, but then I saw how into it he was getting. Each to their own, I suppose! I took this as a sign to really get creative, and it certainly had the desired effect. Turns out Big Steve should really come with a warning sign. Just the sight of it was extremely intimidating and terrifying at the same time. Immediately I knew that this ‘experience’ was going to be quite limited as there was no fucking way that thing was coming anywhere near me.

We spent a while fooling around, and then he suggested we have a shower, as we both smelt quite bad from being at the club, so we moved into the shower. The water went on, and the steam swirled around our naked bodies before steaming up the mirror. He quickly washed himself and then excused himself to go to the bathroom. I took my time and wrapped a towel around me before returning to the bedroom.

I walked through the door and was stopped in my tracks. There, in front of me, was a very naked and ripped hottie laying out a black plastic sheet on the bed, with a lovely collection of accessories dumped on the floor beside the bed. In the dim light I couldn’t quite see what it was, and must have been staring at it looking rather puzzled.

The smell of amyl began to fill the air and he bent down to pick up a leather mask and a gimp mask.

The wave of pure terror that instantly washed over me was just too much to deal with. I couldn’t stay here. I needed to leave. This was most definitely NOT what I had anticipated.

‘What’s all this?’ I asked, curious, nervous and scared all at once. ‘Oh, I thought you might like to play with some toys and stuff and, y’know, have some fun!’

‘Oh, um, I thought we could have just done that by ourselves… I’m not into toys or role play… and definitely not leather or masks or any of that kind of stuff…’

He walked over to me, and put his arms around me. I thought he was going to kiss me, but when he fumbled with my wrists, I realised that he was trying to handcuff me. That was the deal breaker right there… in that moment I knew I needed to leave.

I broke away from him and explained that I don’t do any of this stuff, especially handcuffs!! I walked over to my clothes on the floor, and purposefully grabbed my phone out of the pockets of my pants. I quickly turned my back to him and sent a blank SMS to my mate, knowing that they would be about fifteen to twenty minutes away (providing they came straight away).

Good ol’ Don Juan could see that I was somewhat distressed by his… um… enthusiasm into our night together, and quickly backtracked as much as he could. I was quite surprised that he was so quick to pack everything up and push it aside, but as he was doing so, I was getting dressed and planning my exit strategy – just in case things went sour.

He came up behind me to spin me around, and began apologising profusely. He said that he was far too presumptuous, and he shouldn’t have been; but was surprised because most guys he brings home seem to just go with it.. I reminded him again, that I’m not one of those guys – I’m different.

“But I really want to fuck you. You’re so hot! I know what guys like you are like in bed, and it’s so fucking hot. And let’s face it, you wanna fuck me too!”

I could have vomited right then and there. GOD! The ego of this guy. If anything, that last little outburst made me want to leave even faster. I thanked him for an unforgettable evening, and made my way through the house to the front door. He asked me one last time not to go, and I replied saying that I just simply couldn’t spend any more time with somebody who was so completely full of themselves.

I walked through the door into the crisp night air, and he told me that I was missing out on a fantastic experience, and I’ll never get the privilege ever again. That stopped me in my tracks. I turned 180 on my heels and stormed back up to his front porch and told him right to his face that the only reason he is so full of himself and exudes so much revolting bravado is because he finds temporary comfort in making himself out to be something more than he actually is. Perhaps if he wasn’t such an egotistical wanker, then he’d actually be able to have a normal conversation with somebody and meet a normal guy and fall in love, instead of trying to fill the sadness and emptiness within himself with constant anonymous hookups. THAT is the privilege that he would never experience unless he changed and stopped being such a wanker.

He stood there, staring at me, completely speechless, and I turned around and walked off down the street. As I turned the corner, I called my friends who were a few minutes away. I told them where to meet me and soon enough the eery silence of the suburban streets was interrupted by the sound of my friends car. I hopped in the car and we headed off to McDonalds for a completely play-by-play of the entire experience.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/third-rate-romance/

Daily Prompt: The Great Pretender

Are you full of confidence or have you ever suffered from Imposter Syndrome? Tell us all about it.

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impostor_syndrome

 
Well, after consulting the Wiki link and reading about Impostor Syndrome which I’d never even heard of, I can identify with a number of the traits that are explained in the article… But I would have never entertained the idea of labelling myself as having that ‘condition’.

I wouldn’t say that I’m the sort of person who exudes confidence all the time, in everything I do – but there are certain facets of my life that I know that I’m good at, and excel at, but even in saying that, it’s a quiet confidence. I’m far too humble to walk around thinking that I’m the best at everything. That’s the type of quality that I absolutely cannot stand in other people. I cannot stand arrogance, and I certainly cannot be around that sort of person… Or their ego.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/27/prompt-the-great-pretender/

Daily Prompt: Never Surrender

Are you stubborn as a grass stain or as easy going as a light breeze on a warm day? Tell us about the ways in which you’re stubborn — which issues make you dig your heels in and refuse to budge?

I’m a Scorpio… being stubborn is just part of who I am.

Ironically, it’s a trait that I really cannot stand in other people.

When I find myself in that kind of head-space where I’m being stubborn, it’s usually for a reason. Unfortunately, however, there are also moments when I’m being stubborn because I’m behaving like a child, and refuse to budge on whatever the situation is.

Somehow I have a tendency to find things that make me draw a line in the sand, and refuse to budge from my side, regardless of whether the person on the other side is making a convincing and compelling case otherwise.

As I’ve become a bit older, my stubbornness and refusal to budge is becoming more social / political.

For example, take our current government in Australia. It’s being run by the Liberal party, and lead by Tony Abbott. Tony has done nothing but completely tear this nation apart piece by piece, and as somebody who voted for The Greens in the last election (I usually vote Labour, but the previous election was just ridiculous, and I didn’t even have a vote of confidence for the Labour Party, hence why I voted Greens), I find that I simply cannot even talk to people who admit that they voted Liberal. I just cannot do it. I don’t understand how these people could WILLINGLY
vote in this government, and somehow be okay with Abbott being hell-bent on total destruction. I would love nothing more than to see him overthrown. But for those out there who actually VOTED him into office. I cannot respect you. It’s because of you that this clown is in power. It’s because of you that he is now ruining this country. It is because of you that I am embarrassed to call myself as Australian.

But it’s not all about politics and social justice issues… it can be ridiculously minor things.

If I decide that I don’t want to do something… I can guarantee you, you won’t be able to change my mind. Alternatively, if there’s something that I want to do, then you can be damn sure that I’m going to go out of my way to make sure that it’ll happen. If it comes at the cost of neglecting other people, then that’s just unfortunate. And if you’re going to try and prevent me from doing something that I want to do, then you can be damn sure that I’m going to make sure that I do everything in my power to ensure that I make it happen. Even if it means upsetting other people around me.

When it comes to Hulk and I… well… it can be tough. Hulk is perhaps the most stubborn person I have ever met. Generally speaking, everything is black and white – shades of grey simply don’t exist. If you’re not Hulk’s friend, then you must be Hulk’s enemy. If you’re not with Hulk, then you’re against Hulk.. etc etc.

However, there have been countless times when Hulk has been wrong, but refuses to accept it or acknowledge it. Hulk’s arrogance can sometimes be astounding, to the point where I simply cannot believe that he reaches some of the conclusions / decisions he does, and I most certainly don’t understand them. I still haven’t quite worked him out yet… and sometimes I wonder if I ever will. He’s a hard nut to crack, that one!

In saying that though, so am I. I can be just as equally stubborn, however, although Hulk may think that in certain situations I’m behaving like him, I don’t see it – regardless of whether I actually am or not. Sometimes I know wholeheartedly that I’m behaving like a dick, and that I’m doing so intentionally… but let’s face it, it’s merely just a new way to describe childish behaviour.

In my life there are certain people, and certain situations that really push. my. buttons. When this happens, I tend to shut down and go into my own different space… whether it’s out of frustration, or anger… a pissed off Scorpio is certainly not somebody you want to be around, let alone on the wrong side of. I have a tendency to completely flip my emotional state 180-degrees in a heartbeat. Most of the time I can be nice, and sweet, and generous and caring… however, if you push my buttons, that part of me flies right out the window.

So if you ever experience me saying “don’t poke the bear”… that’s usually your cue to walk away — coworkers of mine – take note!!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/11/daily-prompt-never-surrender/

Daily Prompt: Walking on the Moon

What giant step did you take where you hoped your leg wouldn’t break? Was it worth it, were you successful in walking on the moon, or did your leg break?

Please allow me to preface this by pointing out that I spent almost an hour writing this post yesterday, only for my auto-save to not work, resulting in me losing my entire post. Such a pain in the bum, so I’ll try and recreate it from memory again… Fingers crossed

I initially struggled when I thought about this, and spent a lot of time trying to come up with a scenario, but I thought that I would write about one of the dance auditions I went to when I was younger.

It was during my year of full-time dance, and I had never been to an audition for an overseas gig before. I’d only ever auditioned for dance schools and that was stressful enough. I didn’t really have much interest in the actual gig (which was for an overseas theme park), but I wanted to do it for the experience, and so I could determine what areas I needed to improve on for any future auditions that I might have.

So I turned up to this audition, not really knowing what it was going to be like and I walked up a few flights of stairs which opened up to this giant space – full of guys. Now for anybody in the commercial world of dance, you’ll know that all the guys are usually tall and good looking and quite well built.

…and I was pretty much the opposite. Well, except for the height.

When I walked in, it was, quite literally, one of those moments where everybody in the room completely stops, the music stops, and everybody stares at you. Although it was only a brief moment, it felt as though time had completely frozen. I walked around all the people sprawled out across the ground and found a small space in the corner, and started to stretch.

Everybody else was already sitting around in their little cliques, and most of them seemed to already know everybody else. Nobody paid me any attention – even when I tried to say hi to a couple of people, if they didn’t completely ignore me, they either brushed me off with a one-worded answer, or just advised me they didn’t want to be disturbed.

One woman came out and called all the girls into one studio for a vocal audition and the rest of us, the majority, were all guys who were ushered into the main studio. From there we were all split into smaller groups to make it easier for the judging panel to watch each of us a lot more closely.

I quickly realised that even when our group wasn’t performing, we were all standing around the studio watching the others, which really threw me. I had anticipated that everybody else would leave the studio , and we’d be called in group by group, but clearly, I was wrong.

First up was out jazz audition. We learnt a small routine which was actually quite fun, and when danced as a group, it looked incredible. I quickly realised that I wasn’t actually as bad as what I had initially thought. Watching some of the other guys trying to learn the chorey, quickly gave me an idea as to who was a threat, and who wasn’t.

When we started to perform in our groups, we also got to watch the others closely, and I was amazed that there was such a considerable number of these so-called dancers who couldn’t actually dance. I mean it was Jazz. Everybody needs to be able to cut it when it comes to jazz – or maybe I just have high expectations?!

So our group was somewhere in the middle, and everybody was watching everybody else like hawks. These bitches were hungry and we’re scoping out the competition, just like I was. I got up to dance and purposely stood in the back row so as not to come across as being an ‘attention seeker’. The music played and two of the guys in the front row made a massive fuck up, so they stopped us and made us start again.

Groan.

The music started again and it was go-time. Just as quickly as we started, it was over. Almost got through it without making any mistakes, but I made one or two small mistakes, but nothing compared to some of the other guys. Compared to some of them, I was actually doing pretty well. At one point as I was dancing, I caught myself in the mirror as I nailed some complex move, and as I finished it, in my peripheral vision, I caught the eyes of one of the judges who, I thought, was watching me. And as I finished this particular move, she got a smile on her face, and then put her head down to write something… like she was secretly rooting for me, perhaps?

Everybody was then ushered out to the waiting room, where some people took the opportunity to have a bite of some food, and down some sports drinks. One of the people from the judging panel said that they were going to begin the callbacks, beginning with Ballet. Then, one by one they started calling out numbers of who they wanted to return.

It was nerve-wracking having to sit there and watch peoples reactions. Some were really humbled when their number was called. Others were more celebratory and flaunting of the fact. The ones who didn’t make it though either got really angry about it and stormed off in a huff, or they just accepted it for what it was. There were quite a few though who got really upset. I think they may have been the ones who were really hoping to get the job. Then whilst I’m sitting there watching everybody else’s reactions, I hear something, but I can’t quite work out what it is. Then I hear it again.

It’s me. My number. I’ve made it through the first round of callbacks!! I couldn’t quite believe it. For somebody who felt so intimidated at the beginning, it would appear as though that was slowly changing. However, I wasn’t necessarily going to get too excited just yet. It was time to get my ballet on.

We went back into the studio to learn a rather basic adage., and then split into new groups. Just like before with the Jazz audition, the ballet audition really gave some of us the perfect opportunity to show the others how it was done. I was really quite shocked that so many of these guys were so terrible at ballet. Here I was thinking that this was the foundation of all dance training – obviously just not theirs. There was only a few guys who really stood out, and even I was surprised at how well I managed with it. But I think I got lucky, because the other guys in my group were pretty bad, so they made me look even better. So I’m not sure if I stood out for actually being talented, or if it was because I was the best of the worst.

After we had finished, we were put back in the holding room, and they made the next round of announcements. Again, my number got called. ‘You have 5 minutes before you come back for your hip-hop audition’.

YES!!

This was right up my alley. Suddenly, the number of guys had dramatically dropped. This was starting to get a bit real, and as much as I didn’t want to pay any attention to it, there was a tiny, tiny part of me thinking that there was a possibility, something might eventuate from all of this.

We went back in for our hip-hop audition, and surprisingly, the routine was short, but quite technical. I found it quite challenging. I went over it and over it and over it, but it just wasn’t sitting well with me. Suddenly the groups had changed order and my group was now second.

FUCK.

I only had a couple of minutes before I had to dance again, and I was really feeling nervous. I felt as though I had somehow managed to prove myself, and I couldnt mess it up now. The music started, and my group started dancing. When the music finished, I let out a giant sigh of relief, but it was quickly interrupted by the judging panel announcing that they wanted us to do again, but they wanted the front and back rows to swap. I was in the back row. I wonder if they want to watch me?? Oh, don’t be so stupid, why would they? SO the music began and I found myself back in the zone. In the corner of my eye I could see the same female judge watching me, then writing down some stuff on paper, and then talking to the judge next to her. And again, when I finished the routine, I caught her smiling. I tried not to think anything of it, but I couldn’t help myself.

As far as I knew, that was the end of the auditions process. I felt relieved, and was looking forward to getting out of this confined space full of stress and tension and hyper-emotional people. Just as I started to re-pack my bag, a lady walks out to us and says that there’s been a change in the audition, they were doing one last round of callbacks. Again, she started to read through the numbers, and only 4 guys got cut, the rest of us were all through again. I actually couldn’t believe that I’d made it this far. It was quite surprising, given that I hadn’t actually worked professionally in this industry, whereas most of the people here had, or still were.

We sat there looking a bit puzzled, as we didn’t really know why they were having a final cut? Maybe they wanted us to sing? Or do a reading? Nobody knew. The lady left briefly, and then returned to say, ‘I’ve just received confirmation that they would like to see you complete a Tap audition. We understand this is last minute, and understand you probably don’t have your tap shoes with you, but if you could, we’d love to see what you’ve got.’

Now, that’s what I call a **PLOT TWIST**

I instantly knew that I was out. I couldn’t tap to save myself. I can do a couple of basic steps, but other than that, I’ve got the skill of a monkey rollerskating on an oil slick. A couple of people cracked the shits, saying that this was ridiculous and unfair, and they stormed off. A couple of others brought their tap shoes with them ‘just in case’. I followed everybody back into the studio, and they made us line up across the studio side-by-side. Everybody was feeling nervous, because we didn’t know what to expect now. I looked at the lady who I’d made eyes with earlier, and she gave me a quick little wink – which, really, could have have meant anything, but she only did it to me, so I felt a tiny bit better.

They explained to us, that they wanted to see roughly 16-counts of some tap skill, to try and judge what level our expertise is. It could be anything we want, as long as it was between 16 and 32 counts.

Shit. Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Knowing that tap was the absolute worst style for me was already bad enough, knowing that I was now going to be last (!!!) made everything even worse. They’re going to go through us one at a time, and all these guys are going to show off their fancy foot skills and then they’re all going to watch me completely ruin everything. Maybe I should just leave? There’s no way I’ll get anywhere now. It’s a guaranteed no. I’ve stil got a chance, perhaps I should just thank them for the opportunity and excuse myself.

I opted not to give in so easily. I’d spent so many hours here already, I may as well see it through until the end, and let’s face it, I had no intentions of actually getting a job out of this, I was only here for the experience, and I should make sure that I get the whole experience, regardless of how uncomfortable or awkward it gets. That’s what it’s like in this industry. It’s cut-throat and you just have to roll with the punches. No time for you to be self conscious and weak. We all watched each other as the tap-a-tap-a-tap-a progressed down the line. The whole time I kept taking bits and pieces from everybody else’s ‘routines’ to create my own little series of steps… and well, in theory it worked in my head.

However, when I had to actually perform it, it was a completely different story. Turns out, I had no fucking idea of what I was doing. I’d even managed to completely forget even the most basic of basic steps. It was just a complete disaster. I was so humiliated, but all I could do was laugh.  There were a few concerned looks my way, but by this stage, I was kinda over it. I’d achieved everything I had come to do, and made it through to the final cut. The lady on the panel looked at me with a small grin and shook her head slightly. The guy in charge of the audition thanked everybody for staying, and for being so gracious and doing the tap audition, and that those who were successful would receive details via email later that evening.

We filed out of the studio into the holding area. People got changed; some called their friends / family; a couple of the guys walked off crying. I went into a toilet to change my clothes, put on some deodorant and wash my face. I let out a big sigh, picked up my bag and headed down the stairs. I got outside and was almost blinded by the blaring sunshine. I had almost forgotten what the weather was like because I’d been in fluoro lighting all day. I stood there on the steps of the building trying to work out what to do with myself for the rest of the afternoon. One thing that couldn’t be denied was that I was STARVING!! But having just stressed out and danced my arse off, I wanted to eat my feelings. The most important choice was whether I wanted to go buy half a dozen pastries, or if I wanted to get a tub of ice-cream and hire some dvd’s.

I was enjoying the sunshine, and whilst thinking of the pro’s and con’s of what I wanted, I grabbed my iPod and started untangling my supposed ‘tangle-free’ earphones, when I heard a group of people coming down the stairs. It was the judges from the panel. The lady that had smiled at me a few times noticed me and said goodbye to the others, before she started walking towards me.

…ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…

‘You were quite an interesting one to watch today. You did a really good job’

‘Um… thanks?’

‘None of us have seen you before, so you’re obviously one of the new kids on the block, so to speak’

‘Yeah, although I don’t think I have ‘The Right Stuff’ hehehe.’

‘*laughs* Good one. Listen, I’m glad that I bumped into you, I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed watching you today. You really did a great job. Although you were nervous, you danced with passion and authenticity. I don’t actually know anything about you, but a few of us couldn’t stop watching you… even when you weren’t dancing, we were still watching you..’

‘Oh god, why? I was probably picking my nose or something…’

‘Eww, no, you just, there was something about you. There’s a light within you that just makes people want to watch you dance. You need to perform. You need to continue on this path. It’s just so refreshing to see somebody different to the same people we see all the fucking time. It just gets boring, and we tune out, because we’ve seen them all before. They all look the same. Like clones. Except you, you look nothing like them. And you’re clearly talented. There were people with a fuck load more experience than you who got knocked out in the first round, and yet, you made it all the way. We just wanted to see more.’

‘Really?? I don’t know what to say to that’

‘Although your tap was fucking abysmal. One of, if not, the worst of the day! Which was suuuuch a fucking let down, because we were expecting some awesome tap routine from you, but we didn’t get it.’

‘Ha! yeah, well, tap certainly isn’t my favourite style. Actually, I really don’t like it. I have to do it as part of my course, but I’m terrible at it. My ankles don’t seem to want to let me do it. I just can’t get it. And well, I’ve only been doing tap this year for the first time EVER! When the other lady said we were going to do tap, I almost walked out because I knew that I would bomb out on it, but I wanted to be the person who didn’t just give up when it got too hard. At least I can say I completed the audition. I may have completely mucked it up, but at least I finished it, AND I made it to the final callback, which completely shocked the hell out of me, so for that, I must say a big thankyou to you and the rest of the panel.’

‘Yeah, you need to really work on your tap. It’s not a major audition component, but some auditions require solid tap skills. Not all of them do, but it’ll work in your favour if you can get them up to speed. It’s going to work in your favour if you do, trust me. You’ve already got that spark in you, like an x-factor, but if you can do a good, solid, clean, tap solo, you’ll be more of a threat. I’m glad that I got to meet you, you actually made my day.’

‘Seriously? now that’s something you don’t hear everyday!’

‘Hopefully we’ll get to see you again sometime soon. I’ve got your details, and so have some of the others, so if we see you on the audition list, we’ll happily make sure that you get an audition. BUT WORK ON YOUR TAP FOR FUCK’S SAKE!! GOD, THAT WAS SUCH A LET DOWN!!’

‘I’ll try, I can’t promise though. How about if I do audition next time, we just skip the tap altogether, and you just let me do a good job with everything else instead?!’

We both laughed and said goodbye before walking in opposite directions. I think that was one of the most humbling experiences I’ve ever had in terms of dancing. It felt a little weird to be honest. As a dancer, you rarely hear somebody praise you for your talent. Most of the time you just keep getting told that whatever you did could have been better. You get told about all the flaws and imperfections of your talent – you need to work on your turnout, you have bad feet, you’re not flexible enough, you didn’t jump high enough, you need to work on your spotting, your arms are too sloppy, you have ugly turns, your back is too swayed, you look like your trying too hard etc etc etc. That’s just something that you have to get yourself used to very quickly. You need to have a thick skin if you’re going to pursue something like dancing, because everybody will pick you apart for every little thing that isn’t 100 percent perfect. That’s just how it is. It’s not nice. It’s not fair. But that’s how we improve.

For somebody to then turn around and have that kind of positivity and praise for my talent is almost completely foreign, and something that I have always struggled to accept and deal with. I’ve always been quite humble with my dancing. I’m not denying that I’d be quietly confident about my talent, but I wouldn’t be the one displaying the ego telling people that I’m the best and everybody else can just suck it. But for somebody like her to say something like that to me, felt amazing. Audition judges are always seen to be quite hard, and extremely blunt in their feedback or comments, so for somebody to say that they loved watching me dance just blew my mind.

I was on cloud-nine for the rest of the afternoon, and I practically inhaled a tub of ice-cream when I got home and enjoyed every single spoonful!!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/23/daily-prompt-moon-walking/