My Fair Lazy - Jen Lancaster [109]
“Oh, thank God, me neither! I figured since you’d been studying about dance, you knew something I didn’t.”
I shrug. “I’ve been spoiled by So You Think You Can Dance. I mean, they have some of the best choreographers in the country working on that show, plus they explain what the dance is about before every performance. And maybe they’re dumbing it down for the masses, but as a member of the masses, I appreciate the summary. As for tonight, I didn’t expect a full breakdown, but a few hints as to plot might have been nice.”
“Yeah, those couples in all the loose clothing in the fourth number with all the sticks? What was that about?” Joanna asks, taking a bite of her chocolate-cherry compote.
“Pfft, I couldn’t begin to tell you. But if I had to guess, I’d say they were crows.” I dig into my white-and-milk-chocolate mousse. “Oh, and P.S.? I could have done without the charity’s president rallying against the evils of the Republican party in his speech, too. I mean, I’m here, paying seventy-five bucks a ticket specifically to support your organization; can you not call me the devil, please?”213
“I noticed you were squirming at that point.”
“That’s also because Dreadlocks McShoutypants was having a conversation out loud with herself. Apparently she needs to remember to pick up some spirulina at Whole Foods on the way home. As for the dancing, you know what else bothered me? This is petty, but I didn’t like the sound of people dancing. On my stupid show, they edit out the noise of the dancers leaping and landing back on the ground. At this thing, everyone sounded like a herd of cattle because we could hear every foot slapping the stage. I found it distracting.”
She looks thoughtful as she picks at the pecans on her tartlet. “I guess I didn’t notice.”
“As part of my project, I’ve been watching a ton of old dance movies lately. They took out the stage noise, too, except in the tap-dancing scenes, which are supposed to be heard.”
Joanna gives me a wry grin. “My oldest takes Irish-dancing lessons. I guess I expect dance to make a lot of racket. By the way, have you seen Singin’ in the Rain yet?”
“Yes, and I loved it so much!” I exclaim. “What’s funny is after seeing some old musicals, I told Stacey I thought the SYTYCD dancers are way more athletic than Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly. Maybe these kids don’t have their charisma, but in a lot of ways, their technique is better. She countered by telling me after Michael Jackson moon-walked for the first time on the VMAs, Gene Kelly called to congratulate him. Then Michael told Gene if it weren’t for him, he’d never have become a dancer. Now a lot of the guys on SYTYCD attribute their love of dance to Michael.”
“Maybe it’s just as simple as that soda commercial—every generation inspires the next,” Joanna remarks while stifling a yawn.
“Are you exhausted?” I ask, glancing at my watch. “You realize if we were still in college, we’d just be getting ready to go out now.”
“A little bit, but I’m fine. Although tomorrow I’ve got to work our block party with a vodka-and-chocolate hangover; I may regret this then.”
I laugh. “Twenty-four years later and I’m still a bad influence on you.”
Joanna drains her glass and finishes her truffle. “What should we do now? You want another drink, you want more chocolate, or do you want to call it a night? I’m game for one more if you are.”
I consider all our options. “You know what? As long as you don’t hit me with your dreadlocks, I’m pretty happy with whatever’s next.”
Joanna just sent me a link to a review of the dance. Apparently the people in the loose clothes were supposed to be subsistence farmers.
And I still don’t get it.
“If we go tomorrow, they’ll have belly dancers,” I say.
“Yeah?” Stacey replies. “Then let’s definitely go tonight. Want me to see if the girls are free?”
Stacey and I are on the phone coordinating our outing to a Turkish restaurant, and I’m glad she’s suggested our friends join us because I’ve discovered that the Eat the World portion of my project works better in groups. More