Tuesday, 21 January 2014

On the receipt of unsolicited, unwelcome feedback delivered with slightly too much schadenfreude

Last night I performed at Silk Route in a troupe with some of the other peeps from my class.

It went really well. The crowd enjoyed it. We enjoyed it. Sure, it wasn't the slickest performance of my life (there was a bar in the corner with a big mirror over it, and I got distracted by catching sight of all of us in mid-flow, lost my count and started a turn slightly too early before recovering), but a lot of fun was had by almost all. On the whole, it was not a bad inaugural performance to launch 2014.

So we came off stage, and were backstage while other dancers from our school headed out to perform, and our teacher was telling a couple of us what a great job we did -- true or not, she's obliged to say that, after all -- and we were standing there, still in full stage face and costume, when I see one of my other classmates beaming from ear-to-ear and making a beeline for me. Expecting to hear something generally positive, along the lines of, oh, I dunno: "That was fun," or, "We should do this again," or "That went pretty well," -- I readied own shit-eating grin in return. But what she actually said to me was (drum roll, please):

"You turned too early!"*

And suddenly I found smiling to be quite hard work.

*As you know -- and as you would think the woman in question would know -- you do not ever, and I do mean not ever, under any circumstances, need to point out to a dancer that they have screwed up. It is like pointing out to Lindsay Lohan that, career-wise, things don't seem to be going that swell.

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