They stunk.

I sat in the audience, head in hands, watching the members of this dance company hack through the first two minutes of my routine.

It was no use.

They just didn't get the movement of emotion I was showing them.

All morning they looked and listened while I went through the opening minutes over and over.

I asked them if they got it.

They all would nod and then proceed to look like elephants taking dumps on stage.

It was as if their eyes and ears took in everything I said only to be sucked away by the vacuum where their brains were supposed to be.

I was about to call it quits, when the masochist in me asked them to do it one more time.

"Five, six, seven, eight."

I watched the first group dance near the light.

They were on the money.

My hands began clapping out the time.

"CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!"

The second group entered.

Good.

"CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!"

The first soloist began his dance.

"CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!"

I watched and had this running commentary going on in my head.

"CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!"

"Easy here, not too hard, that's it, now, leap. PERFECT!"

I stopped my clapping and the dancers looked at me for approval.

I looked back and smiled. "One more time."

*****

One of the dancers came up to me after and shook my hand.

She wiped the sweat off her face with a towel and asked me what made me come up with this piece.

I looked back at her and thought about it for moment and then told her why.

I watched her eyes glaze over as I spoke.

After I finished she smiled and asked me, point blank, if I wanted to go back to her place.

I did.