Can You Feel It? (571 hits)
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Submitted by Phoenix <volklcess.at.aol.com> (View user info) at 2004-04-09 11:28:15 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
For as long as Kate could remember she wanted to dance. She was born with the soothing rhythm of music pumping through her veins, a steady beat made her subconsciously sway her hips this-a-way and that, and she could always be caught mindlessly drumming her fingers or tapping her foot ("tap-a tap-a tap-a" comments Little Vicky in "The Simpsons").
But Kate couldn't dance. The musical blood that did indeed mambo through her veins had no sturdy tempo, her hips swayed out of time with those steady beats, and the tapping of her fingers and feet was always off-cadence. She couldn't dance; she had no rhythm. She heard the music, but she couldn't feel it, and no one had the heart to tell her because she loved dancing so damn much and was oblivious to her handicap. So she continued to flop around like a fish out of water at clubs much to the dismay of her friends; she continued to flap her arms like useless chicken wings, and she jumped up and down to the beat of a different drum instead of the obvious thump of the bass pulsing out of over-sized speakers.
"One day I'll be a famous dancer," Kate gushed to her friends. "I'll have my own marquee. People will come from miles around just to see ME. I'll even have a stage name." Her eyes twinkled, clouding over as she sunk deeper and deeper into her unachievable fantasy.
"Yes, Kate." Her friends would smile and nod. Kate would never feel the heat of stage lamps beaming down on her; she'd never have sweat trickle down the back of her neck from stage anxiety; she'd never shield her eyes from the brightness of the spotlight so that she might see the thousands of people in the audience because she'd never be on stage. Not for dancing. Kate couldn't dance.
It was a fateful day at her usual club that Kate was approached by a man who told her he was a talent scout. He boasted shaggy hair, a devil's goatee, and a handlebar mustache, a regular Colonel Sanders aside from the large round aviators that covered his eyes and his scrawny, emaciated limbs that stuck out of his baggy clothing like sticks. He introduced himself as Marty.
"I must say, you are the most beautiful woman at this club," Marty told her as he handed her his card. "You have exactly the looks I'm lookin' for, and if you have the time I'd love for you to come audition to be a regular dancer at my club."
Kate blushed humbly. Could this be real? Could her dreams be unfolding before her very eyes?
Marty put his arm around Kate's shoulder and made an arch with his free hand to paint a visual. "Picture this, kid. Lights. Red ones. Blue ones. Black ones." Frantically he pointed around in the air where the lights should be in Kate's day dream. "A stage. And you. Just you, dancing, people cheering for you, crowding up to the stage to be near you, to be near--say, what's your name, kid?"
"Kate," she replied solemnly, absolutely dazzled by the vision playing out before her.
"Now that just won't do. You're much too spectacular. Sparkling, even! Your stage name will be Diamond!" Kate gasped. Her very own stage name! "Can you feel it, Diamond? Music throbbing, people wanting you, NEEDING you. You could be a star, kid!"
She was completely engulfed in greed now, drowning in this man's fantastic promises of fame, walking side by side with him through the glam and glitz he described. She wanted it. She wanted it all. And she told him so, eagerly telling him she'd be there for the audition, that she wouldn't miss it for the world. How could she pass up such an opportunity?
As soon as Marty disappeared into the sea of bobbing heads on the dance floor, Kate ran to find her friends. How excited they'd be for her. How happy they'd be, and yet so envious at the same time. She had an audition to be famous; she had a date with destiny. In a single breath she rambled out the entire story to the shocked and confused faces of her friends. Silence followed, glances were exchanged. How did Kate get an audition to dance at a club? This couldn't be right because Kate couldn't dance. Nevertheless her friends congratulated her, and promised that once she made it past the audition they'd be there for her opening night, confident that there would be no opening night because there was no way Kate could make it past the audition - Kate couldn't dance.
They furrowed their brows deeper in confusion on the day Kate called to say that she had gotten hired to dance for Marty's new club. Her audition had gone off without a hitch, and she reminded them of their promises to be at opening night. They hated the idea of seeing their friend become the laughing stock of an up and coming club, but there's also something tempting about the idea of seeing someone make a fool of herself, so reluctantly they told her a promise is a promise and they'd be there.
Backstage on opening night, a drop of sweat trickled down the back of Kate's neck from stage anxiety. It would be her first time since her 4th grade class play that she'd been on stage. Nervously she adjusted the sequins of her skimpy costume and wiped away that pesky drop of sweat. Tonight she would astonish.
The music was thumping as she stepped confidently out on to the stage bathed in blue light. Beer bottles were clinking, people were cheering, rock music was blaring, and so "Diamond" Kate started dancing. Can you feel it? Oh, yeah, she could feel it, and it was a feeling that made her beam with happiness. They were screaming. They were screaming for HER, and she was dancing for them.
Kate's friends watched in amazement as she lumbered clumsily around the stage in what appeared to be some sort of dance. A combination of The Sprinkler and The Shopping Cart, a butchered version of The Hustle tossed in with bits and pieces of the Electric Slide, perhaps? And was that the Hokey Pokey?
Their amazement escaladed as Kate ripped off her top.
Ah, the only "professional dancers" who don't necessarily have to have the ability to dance well. The secret society of stuffing dollar bills into panties and topless dancing. Kate had become a stripper, but at least she had achieved her dream of becoming a dancer....oh, the irony. She melted into the sounds of drunken cheers as she awkwardly swung herself around the stage pole, and at last, she could feel it.
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