Are we human or are we dancers? I.P.
Are we human or are we dancers? (I.P.) 1172 words
Being new to the area, I had joined this dance group hoping I would make some friends. I tried really hard to learn the dance routines but I struggle with my feet. They refuse to co-operate and I can’t tell my right from my left so all this didn’t exactly sit well with the rest of the group. They would get very impatient with me if they were all turning left and I took a turn to the right. If they only knew how much time I spent practising at home they might be a little bit more patient.
In fact some of them can be quite spiteful with their remarks which they don’t make directly to me but always seem to make sure I am well within earshot. Often when I get back home I have a few tears because of something I have overheard like today, with Janine, when I heard her say to Margaret,
‘I don’t know why she comes here. She’s never gonna make a dancer and she’s ruining it for everyone else who can dance. I think she should be asked to leave.’
‘Oh, I think that’s a bit harsh’ replied Margaret.
'No, it's not. It's the truth.'
'Yes, I don't deny it but you can't just ask someone to leave.'
'I don't see why not. This is a dance school after all.'
‘Well anyway Miss Wainwright is calling us back on stage so it looks like we’re going to have an extended rehearsal.’
‘And we both know the reason for that.’
I fought back the tears but as I went to go up the stairs to get back on stage Janine deliberately pushed me and I fell on the cast iron steps hurting my ankle but I still carried on trying to get on stage though my foot really hurt and when I looked down it was beginning to swell.
‘Oh, dear, you’ve hurt yourself. You must try to be more careful throwing yourself about like that. If I were you I wouldn’t put any weight on that ankle and I certainly wouldn’t dance on it. Look it’s starting to swell,’ said Janine, laughing. ‘It looks like we won’t have to stay quite so long after all.’
That made me all the more determined so I gritted my teeth and carried on up to the stage and got into position.
‘Miss Wainwright’ called Janine ‘This lady has hurt herself and I don’t think she should be dancing with her ankle swelling like it is.’
Janine made a point of never using my name though she knew it right enough.
‘No, I’ll be fine’ I said doing my best to look unconcerned.
Miss Wainwright came over just the same and she took one look at my rapidly swelling ankle and said I must go home as I was not in a fit state for dancing. When I tried to argue she said something about not being insured if she allowed me to dance. So, I reluctantly limped off stage but not before I caught site of Janine gloating triumphantly.
It was raining when I eventually came out of the hall where we practised and walked or rather limped to the bus stop. Not one person had offered me a lift even though they all knew I have two bus rides and a long walk at the other end but I tried not to dwell on it even though it hurt like hell to think I was so unpopular that no one would offer me a lift.
When I got home I put the kettle on and then took off my wet clothes because I was now soaked through. When the kettle boiled I ignored it because by now my ankle was really hurting and I decided the way I was feeling called for something a little stronger than tea. I had a large bottle of whisky that I had won at the Bingo but once again, being of a shy disposition and new to the area, I had, as yet, made no friends so had no one to share it with.
Anyway, I sat myself down at the table and poured myself a glass which I quickly drank. Then I poured myself another glass and that too didn’t touch the sides. By this time I was starting to feel a whole lot better so I got out the dance music CD and put it on but not before pouring myshelf another small glash which I drinked. Thish is just the pick me up I need I said to myshelf as I fell down. This bottle is my friend I like it very, very much. ‘Do you like me very, very much?’ I shaid . Do you know I think it must like me if not very, very much but at the very least very much, because it had brought a friend. Now thash what I call friendships thas ish.
The CD was still playing but not any of the tunes we dance to. No, the tune that was playing now I had danced to as a child so I started to dance to it just as I had done when I was little and do you know what? I didn’t have two left feet no I had four. Now me and my four feet could out dance any of that misherable lot at the dance school. Thash if I hadn’t had a stroke that robbed me of my dancing feet.
Anyway, I managed to pull myshelf up and poured another glash of this very nishe amber nectar which I drinked once I found where my mouth was. It’s a very funny thing when a pershon looses their mouth because it’s in the nature of the law of depravity that it should always be located just above a pershon’s chin which agrees with the findings of another fine fellow whose name escapes me but was called Galileo with his equally well known law of selectivity, but somehow, don’t ask me how, my mouth had slipped down onto my chest.
How do I know this well my thermos vest was getting wet and I think I might have done a wee wee which comes as a nice surprise because I needed a wee wee. I think I also need another small glash of this very fine malt but only for medicinal purposes. A little nightcap to help me sleep, you understand.
When I woke up in the morning my head was aching and I felt very stiff from the dancing so I thought I would have an easy day and go on that ABC Writer’s site and see what the Inspiration Point was. When I saw what it was I started writing a story about being part of a group yet not being part of it. That was when I realised I should have gone to Specsavers because I had thought the topic was I wandered lonely in a crowd.