– Contributed by Wee C
It was an epic moment in television history…when Elaine Benes showed off her killer dance moves and wowed the world with her unforgettable style and grace. I’m always so flattered when people tell me I dance just like her. I mean, she’s a total star and no one ever forgets how she danced. Sigh, I’m the luckiest girl on earth.
I don’t know how I do it. I’ve been able to move like that for as long as I can remember. High school dances, proms, gala events, house parties. I’ve always managed to get people talking when I get up to dance. Pointing and whispering. In amazement, of course. In fact, there’s a reason we didn’t have a dance at our wedding…I would have put the other guests to shame. Brought them to tears, even. Sobbing, turn-your-head-away-because-you-blind-me-with-your-brilliance, tears. I think you’d call it a gift, my ability to move people with my dancing, but I’m much too modest for that.
So, when Paula Abdul got up on stage to teach us new choreography at Bust a Move I knew that I would be able to rock out with her, the Laker Girl, and the So You Think You Can Dance finalist she had brought with her. Straight up, I’d forever be their girl.
Tragically, though, I had been placed at the back of the event room. Hidden from view. Only to be seen by the poor wallflowers at the back who just couldn’t get it together enough to keep up and follow along. How awful it must have been for them to watch me in horror…the horror of knowing that they could never move like me. Longing for my coordination, my fluidity, my swagger. My moves are so unique, they could never duplicate them.
Oh, jealousy is a cruel emotion. I could feel them whispering amongst themselves behind me. It’s so hard being that girl, but there’s one in every crowd and you can’t apologize for being remarkable. That’s denying your gift and that’s all kinds of wrong.
So I continued on, making my arm movements all the bigger, throwing my hips more dramatically, and doing everything I could to prevent myself from adding in my signature move…the snapping of the fingers. That would have sent them over the edge, I’m quite sure of it.
Admittedly, there came a point, where I just had to stop. It broke my heart to give up my chance for Paula to see me, call me out of the crowd and up onto the stage, but I was filled with sorrow for the girls on the wall. I knew that if I didn’t stop, they would melt into a puddle of self-doubt and despair. And I’m far too kind to allow that to happen. So, selflessly, I abandoned my one shot to make it big and I joined them on the wall. I could immediately see a deep, deep sense of relief come over their faces. It bordered on jubilation. I knew I had done the right thing.
It’s so hard keeping a talent like this bottled up. But my friends and loved ones have always encouraged me to remain modest and to use extreme moderation in showing off my mad skills. It’s sweet how protective they are over me, really. So I heed their advice and choose my venues wisely. Wedding receptions, though? That’s my beat. Thank goodness I have one coming up soon. That crowd? They won’t know what hit them. At least not until they see my flailing arms propelling me across the room. Now that’s what I’m talking about.