Breakin’ the Law

Last night I went to see the So You Think You Can Dance tour at Nassau
Coliseum. It was really fun. It was like being at the show itself. Two giant
screens flanked the stage projecting Nigel and Mary throughout the show. Kat’s
voice introduced the dancers even though she was nowhere to be seen. The show
featured some of the most popular choreographed routines of the season, often
danced with substitutes since the “all-stars” were not on tour. This meant that
one of my favorite dances (Sasha & Twitch dancing to Misty Blue) was a pale
impression with Ricky substituting for Twitch. Ricky is a good dancer but he
doesn’t have the heft of Twitch.

For me, the real excitement of the night came just as we walked into
the Coliseum about ten minutes or so before the show was scheduled to begin. We
met Joe’s sister and niece there as they just happened to be standing on the
concession line for food just inside the doors we had entered. After our drive
in I unfortunately had to get on the bathroom line that was easily 30 people
deep snaking out of the door. Yes, I was the last one on the line. Joe’s niece,
ever the Queens girl, grabbed me off the line and said we are not going to
stand on this line and with that we walked off the line and into the exit door
of the restroom. We ended up just inside the door and she instructed me to “fix
my hair” and then just “blend into the line”. For those of you who know me, I
am not a good blender. I was especially not a good blender last night. I was
wearing this tan sweater with these crazy swirls of colors. Vintage madness. I
was relatively certain that someone would yell at me, this is New York after
all. Joe’s niece stayed with me till it was obvious no one was going to accuse
me of cutting. I got the distinct impression she would have taken care of
anyone who gave me a hard time. Nice.

Upon reflection, it is pretty hilarious that this teeny, tiny
indiscretion was so difficult for me to do. I cut the bathroom line. It really
just went against my inner law-abiding citizen. Joe actually told his sister
that I wouldn’t do it. He was correct. I almost didn’t. I almost couldn’t. But
I felt like such a dork to say no. I suppose that despite the fact that I spent
all of my formative years in New York, inside, my non-confrontational
law-abiding self, at my core, I was really made for Hawaii. No, I will never be
Hawaiian, of course, but I think that I’ve got the aloha spirit down. Really,
just try me.

About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
This entry was posted in Hawaii, New York and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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