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“All She Wants to Do Is Dance”
“Dance is the hidden language of the soul.” – Martha Graham
I walked into the PredatorsDance Studio with a little pep in my step and a swing in my hips. Confidence rolled off me in droves. If there was one place I felt at home, it was a dance studio. It was second nature to me. As I looked around, I could see all the care and time my friend, LaRue, put into designing the studio. I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the place. I expected to walk into a half-done former office building with a couple of bars drilled into the wall and maybe a mirror or two purchased from Walmart. What I saw instead was a very professional studio that would put the ones I used to frequent when I lived in New York to shame. LaRue had really done a great job. Now, I really wanted to work here.
“Sharon, welcome to Predators Dance Studio. Come on in and have a look around.”
I greeted my friend since childhood formally, offering my hand to shake. I didn’t know how she planned to conduct business, but I wanted to respect her in her place by being as professional as possible.
“Mrs. Rousch, thank you for having me.”
Her face contorted like she smelled something foul, and then a smile broke out on her face. She playfully smacked my hand away and pulled me into a friendly hug.
“Girl, I know this is a job interview, but I run things rather informally around here. Everyone is on a first name basis, especially for someone who has been my friend since I was five. Now, like I was saying, come on in and have a look around. Be honest and tell me what you think.”
“LaRue, I love it! It is so modern. If I was a teenage girl, I would want to dance here. I’m in my late twenties, and I want to dance here!”
My comments brought a smile to her face. She started walking toward the side of the building, waving at me to join her. Looking back over her shoulder, she threw a shot at me.
“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. You know your ass hasn’t seen your 20s in quite a few years.” She paused to laugh with me and then continued. “Come on back into my office. I’ll be doing a formal interview to find out where your mind is at, and then I will need you to audition. I saw your bag. Does that mean you brought a change of clothes so you can dance for me?”
“Of course, I came prepared like the email asked.” I took the seat she offered and sat nervously while she pulled up her notes on her iPad. I was never very good at interviews. Speaking professionally wasn’t my cup of tea. I usually fumbled my way through, trying to avoid the many curse words that make up my everyday vocabulary. However, when it came time for the audition, I always shined.
“I appreciate you coming in today, Sharon. I would like to start by telling you about the position and the expectations I have for the staff. The main goal of us being here is to teach the kids. For now, I am limiting classes to all girls. Later, after we are more established, I may invite boys to join, but I think they are a distraction. We are going to not only teach dance in several different styles, we will be giving these girls a purpose. As such, we are expected to be role models for them. My vision of a role model is not someone who is perfect. No one who is perfect can teach about getting knocked down and getting back up. I am looking for someone who has failed but had the gumption to pick themselves up and try again.
“Our students are impressionable, so we will need to be able to explain to them life lessons that are consistent with our mission statement. We want excellence from these young ladies. They need to respect themselves and earn respect from others around them. We are doling out life lessons with a side of dance, remembering that the girls’ well beings are more important than winning a competition. We will teach them how to survive in this world and give them a strong foundation that they can return to as they age and still find it relevant to their lives, no matter where they may go.”
I sat and listened to LaRue give me her vision for her dance company. I wasn’t sure if I could offer the girls all the things she was talking about. Dance I knew, but morals and life lessons were not my forte. The interview continued as my childhood friend grilled me on countless things about running a business, half of which I had no clue what she was talking about. I went to dance workshops, not business school. I was just about to give up and leave her office when she threw me a bone. I think I am failing at this interview. She had me questioning if I was even qualified for this job. Damn!
“Tell me about a time where you had to resolve conflict between two dancers.”
Finally, something I knew how to answer without making a complete ass of myself. I cleared my throat, crossed my right leg over my left and sat back in my chair. I got this!
“As long as there are dancers, there will always be conflict. There are only so many spots to be had, and everyone wants them. It is very important to teach young dancers early on in their career how to handle their conflict without it turning nasty. If there were rivals in my class who were angry with each other, I would make them battle it out on the dancefloor. For example, In New York there were two girls who were out of hand competing for one spot. I tasked them with coming up with their own choreography and to have a dance battle. It happened during class, so I gave them each 15 minutes to come up with their moves. Their peers voted on who’s routine was the best. This way, they were using their dance skills and turning themselves into leaders all at the same time. It turned out to be one of the best tools I used with the ladies. The entire class was involved, and they determined the team captain and co-captain. After that day the ladies worked well together and used their competitive energy to fuel each other instead of making them enemies.”
LaRue smirked at my answer. I could tell she loved it and was trying to hold back her full-on smile. She asked a few more questions relating to how I would interact with the students and about how far I thought a dance team from Jacksonville could go in national competitions. I answered the questions with ease and felt a little better about the outcome of the interview.
With the Q&A portion of the interview over, there was only one thing left to do. Dance! I quickly excused myself to the dressing room and changed into my dance attire. I stretched and then came out ready to wow LaRue. It had been a long while since she last saw me dance. We grew up in ballet class together, but she had never seen me dance professionally. I wanted to highlight the different dance styles I had learned over the years, so my routine had a little bit of everything in it. However, my specialties were majorette and hip hop. I made sure to incorporate a lot of those styles into my dance. There was an overwhelming need to impress LaRue.
As the first beat dropped in the music, I moved into position and began my routine. I quickly found myself lost in the movements. Closing my eyes at the beginning of a routine was my thing. It helped me to feel the music in my soul. So, like the countless times before this dance, I closed my eyes and floated along the floor. When I opened my eyes, I was met with an intense stare from LaRue. It was quite intimidating to say the least.
I found myself dancing harder, the need for her approval drumming in the back of my mind. If I didn’t land this job, I might have to return to stripping. I had resorted to taking my clothes off for horny men not long after I moved to New York. My parents cut me off for disobeying them, so I had to make money and dancing was all I knew. I tried to get gigs, but they were few and far between. I needed to eat and have a roof over my head, so I did what I had to do. I am neither proud nor ashamed. It is just a part of my past that I would rather not repeat.
I was just about finished with my dance when I heard the distinct sound of pipes roaring down the street. I knew it had to be the Three Stooges. That’s what I called Ace, the president of the Predators MC, and his two best friends, Matrix and Baby. It was an inside joke that I never expressed for fear of being cussed out by Mouse, since Ace was her ole man. I came up with the name for them after binge watching some old episodes of the ancient comedy show one weekend. The guys were the Predators version of the Stooges, if you can imagine Larry, Moe and Curly as sexy as sin bikers with hard bodies and tattoos for days.
Ace, of course, was Moe. He was surly and always telling the others what to do. Matrix was no doubt Larry. He went along with the crowd, but always seemed to be thinking of a way to get out of it. That left Baby as Curly. He was the class clown, always getting into mischief and taking his friends along for the ride. They were three of the sexiest bikers I had ever seen, and that was saying something.
By the time I performed my final step, my audience had expanded from one to four. Matrix and Baby hooted and hollered, but my attention was on the surly one. Ace walked in and only had eyes for Mouse. I may as well had been invisible. I and any other woman was rendered non-existent anytime Mouse was in the room. I never could imagine being with such a serious man until I saw how his eyes bored into Mouse. He looked at her like she was the sun, moon and stars all rolled into one adorable package. Seriously, the man loved her so much he would take her dirty drawers, dredge them in flour, fry them up and eat them for Sunday dinner. I envied her so much for finding that kind of love.
As I watched Ace take Mouse into his arms and kiss her with so much passion my own panties became wet, I felt eyes burning into me. I turned to see both Matrix and Baby watching me with lust filled eyes.
“What’s up, Obsession? You looked good doing that dance thing,” Baby chimed.
I smiled at him and was just about to open my mouth to thank him when his alter ego, Curly, jumped out and started twirling around in a mocking manner. It pissed me off that he would make a mockery of my chosen craft. Before I could admonish him, Matrix, who had been standing there gawking at my barely there dance attire, smacked Baby in the back of his head.
“Cut that shit out! Can’t you see she is in an audition and needs to concentrate?”
Baby gave me a sheepish look and stopped his clowning. He shot me an apologetic grin but didn’t say the words. He never would. In his mind, an alpha male never apologized, even if he was wrong. Such a lame way of thinking, but he made it seem sensual.
“Why thank you, Matrix. I see at least one of you has a keen eye for my craft and a bit of respect about yourself. I appreciate that.”
The smile he gifted me with was enough to make me wet. He was a looker, that’s for sure. Matrix stood a slim 6’1” tall with his athletic gait and had unkempt hair that met the collar of his shirt. His facial hair was just as shaggy and a little bit gnarly, but sexy at the same time. Those coal black eyes of his were usually hidden behind sunglasses, but today I was treated to his hungry gaze. The way he devoured me with his eyes unnerved me a bit. It was like he knew all my secrets, and given his propensity for hacking, he probably did.
