They say the dance world is a small one; it could be in New York. But I figured, this was L.A. New coast, new companies, new faces. I figured Iâd hit every company I knew and just start over.
Every dance company is different. They all have their own style, their own identity. But in the end, theyâre all the same. It doesnât matter if theyâre big budget, or small time companies. They all had the same dance posters on the wall and the company directorâs offices all had uncomfortable chairs.
"Mike Orlando," I introduced myself each time.
They came back with "You were here from New York, right?"
"Yeah," Iâd answer. "I was with Costello for..." and before Iâd get my history out, theyâd finish.
"Costello for four years. And you were a featured dancer for Waltâs CIVILIZATION Cycle."
"Yeah."
"Howâd you like working with Walt?" one guy asked.
"Howâs youâre knee?" asked another.
"I heard you were quite a party animal in New York, Mike."
What the hell is this? I felt like I was in an episode of "This Is Your Life!"
Finally, I asked one asshole, "Did Walt call every body in L.A.?"
"No, Mr. Orlando. You didnât need too much help from Walt. You made quite a following for yourself quite successfully."
I sat there, in each of those uncomfortable chairs and listened to almost everyone I talked with tell me about my reputation, and then tell me how they didnât have room for another dancer. They told me how sorry they were about my knee, but I should keep them posted on what I was doing.
"And, oh, Happy New Year!"
Yeah, Happy New Year. I need a drink.
