Lady, do you know who we are?!?

My ballet teacher has this elaborate chair-and-table set-up for teaching class. There are several furniture items, they need to be the right ones, and they need to be in the right order.
He has never asked anyone to get his little chair parade ready for him, but someone always does, and I considered it a great moment in Adult Beginner History when I finally had the right chairs in the right order committed to memory and was able to set it up.
Got to class a little late the other day and was still arranging chairs when he and Le Assistant arrived, and suddenly we all realized that the one tall stool with the upholstered top was missing.
No biggie, probably in one of the other studios, I’ll go get it.
All windows covered though. Can’t see in. Loud music pressing it’s way out through closed doors.
I don’t want to barge in but no biggie, I’ll go to the office and alert the lady to our missing furniture, so she can be the one to barge in.
But apparently it is a biggie. She looks irritated and doesn’t get up and says, “The artists are using that stool.”
Wait, what?
Artists? You’re seriously going to deny an old man his comfy chair so some “artist” can rest her purse on it instead?
While my head exploded I thought, ‘Lady, any artist worth the self-imposed title would leap up in a heartbeat to help a beloved teacher. Even not their own teacher. Probably carry the damned stool right over to us.’
Which is exactly what happened.
Lé Assistant had been standing behind me, heard the thing about the artists, and while I was busy making a stupid face of disbelief she was turning on her heel and marching into the other studio.
She is old enough to not be intimidated by ideas like “Artists” or like “What Artists Need Is More Important Than The Needs Of Our Ballet Class Of Adults”.
And sure enough in about two seconds some good-looking, shirtless, possibly famous but who even cares dancer guy was carrying the stool into our studio, smiling, saying hi to Smirnoff who waved his cane to indicate the proper location of the stool and said thank you.

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About adultbeginner

Had my first ballet class Ever at the advanced age of thirty-two. Yikes.
This entry was posted in Bark! Bark! Bark! and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Lady, do you know who we are?!?

  1. Paulina says:

    Well done! This office lady needs to show some respect to Mr Smirnoff. (I love your Smirnoff stories.)

    • Yeah, disrespectful to him and all of us. Unusual to find that attitude here in LA where any random assortment of grown ups very possibly includes a producer, studio exec, writer on a hit show, well-connected actor, etc etc forever. Are we not important? Are we not all paying for studio time just like the artists?

      • Paulina says:

        O.k., probably the class could have managed without the stool, but you just do not mess with an old dancer’s needs and arrangements.

  2. Carla Escoda says:

    Only the VERY GREAT teachers get to sit down (on stools, or whatever) while teaching. The rest of us must remain on our feet, demonstrating, rearranging arms and legs, poking ribcages and VMO’s, unsickling feet, racing around from one spot to the other in an attempt to maintain law and order… I shudder to imagine the chaos that would descend on my class if I ever sat down!

    • Wish I’d known him back when he was up and maintaining!
      VMO’s….well apparently I’m twelve because all I can think of is Various Male Organs.

      • Carla Escoda says:

        :-) You may look at Various Male Organs, Adult Beginner, while you take class, but as a teacher I must look at the Vastus Medialis Oblique: that little bulge over the kneecap and slightly toward the center of the body. The tiniest member of the quad muscle group, and the quickest muscle to atrophy when you take a break from ballet. Protects the knee when engaged. A tendu is not a tendu if the VMO is not switched on. A plié or fondu or developpé is not complete until the VMO is switched on. A jump is not a BALLET jump if the VMO’s are not switched on in the air… This is the kind of stuff that keeps ballet teachers up at night. I will shut up now.

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