I am writing this as I sit on a wooden pier outside the Sydney Dance Company. Seven in the evening, and my daughter has been delivered to a beginners’ hip-hop class. I managed to weave my way through some unexpected traffic, unexpected because I don’t usually drive through the city at this time. I had to do a quick stop and drop, and then parked. Got a call as I was feeding coins in the meter to say hip-hop was already full, and all that was left was.....sob.....stretch. I talked her into stretch, and haven’t heard from her since. So I guess I’m here until 8.30.
But don’t feel bad for me, because it is FINE here. Pretty darn fine. I got a large coffee from a very friendly barista, and got the last available table of three that are placed outside the main entrance. There are two extraordinarily cute young men sitting in the table to my right. Well, one is sitting, the other, the other in the pink plaid hoodie and baggie trackpants is dancing, and they just put on some music, I think the music is coming from one of their ipods, and it’s just on very loud volume. He certainly is a dancer. I wish I knew what this style is called, I guess a type of hip-hop, but quite floppy-limbed. Now he has gone a bit further away and is facing the closed, curtained glass doors of the atyp, which is on the other side of this part of the pier. That’s “Australian theatre for young people.” I can see the elastic of his underpants, but can’t read the writing of the brand, damn. He doesn’t seem to notice me at all. I am, after all, a middle-aged mother. Sigh.
Ohmygod, a famous Aussie actor just walked RIGHT past me. Why can I not remember his name? He’s not famous enough for non-aussies to know him, but I have seen him on stage and he is FABULOUS. I think he is part of the Bell Shakespeare Company. He was wearing a woven cowboy hat, with a tear in it. He has a true actor’s face, all lines and angles and something a little fierce, and intriguing.
Pink plaid hoodie guy still dancing. Music has stopped. At the table to my left are three businessmen discussing cars. I can’t follow the conversation, even though they are very loud, because car conversation sounds like wah,wha,wha to me. No interest.
Hoodie guy sitting now, he’s sweaty. Dancing is hard work. “Was it you who learned, like, all of Brittany’s slave?” I think I may understand that. They are discussing the way it makes a difference where the camera is, if it’s at the back it will be better for them. Hmm, I tend to agree. There is one girl in front of him and four beside him. Why are they speaking so softly? And why are the businessmen speaking so loudly? “What do you do for money?” Speak up, dammit. “That would suck, I couldn’t imagine going to some country with nothing and trying to make it big.” I so agree. “I hate America right now.” “It will change.” “Do you mean the country or the dance?”
A young woman is sitting on a bench, beside the glass doors. I didn’t notice her arrive. She is smoking, and I can smell a bit of the scent of her cigarette. I like that because it reminds me of this one friend I have who smokes.
“This is so great. Especially starting this course.” I’m worrying that my battery will run out. “I don’t know, it’s all in my head.” Very fit looking, small, long very very blond curly long-haired woman just walked past with a big bunch of keys, went into the dance doors. She said hello to the two boys. Some middle-aged couples arriving now
“She’s a doctor, her husband’s a doctor, they’re really into saving the money.” That’s the businessmen talking of course. Where was I? Right, middle-aged couples arriving to have dinner at the restaurant which is situated in the lobby of the dance company. I haven’t had dinner yet, but it’s fancy in there, and expensive. The coffee’s good. I really hope that my daughter is having fun. Because I am. Smoking woman is laughing into her mobile phone and tapping her cigarette, damn I miss my friend who smokes.
The breeze has just picked up and is quite cold, good I have my knew fingerless gloves on. “It’s cold here”, “yeah, it’s freezing,” yeah so that’s the businessmen. “Is that a Mandarin,” “yeah, sort of, it’s like a duck, but I keep wearing them out.” Oh, talking about one of the men’s bags. I don’t know any men who notice each other’s bags, I guess I need to get out more.
Good I brought my rainjacket with me. “I guarantee you that in four years’ time, you will not be driving a lexus.” Oh my god, I understood that. But how can he GUARANTEE it? Businessmen gone, now only young people walking around. They are all wearing floppy clothing, but you can tell how fit they are underneath. I wish I could do that. When I wear floppy clothing, I just look floppy.
One of the women from the dance counter just walked slowly past me. When I went to check that my daughter got in ok, I went to the counter and asked the two women sitting there. STUNNING. Dancers just look different. They looked like all the dancers looked in that movie “Turning Point” I think it’s called. The one with Shirley McLaine and, gush, Baryshnikov. I had a crush on Baryshnikov for so many of my teenage years. I met my husband during the summer before my last year of high-school, and he had a Russian accent, and that was it really. I’m not making this up, my husband really is Russian, but that’s another story.
Plaid hoodie guy went in to the dance company and just came back out and said “I don’t mind missing out because I just had a look and I’ve done that stuff before.” “Oh, is the door open?” Ah, obviously they are here for the “hip-hop masterclass” which was advertised on a big sign at the counter. Plaid hoodie guy now dancing again in front of glass doors. There’s quite a bit of foot sliding and undulating of shoulders. I clearly have no idea how to describe dance. Bummer.
It just occurred to me that I would not be enjoying this evening half as much if not for the knowledge that I will post this on my blog tonight. I feel like there’s a whole group of us here, enjoying the strange moment, and laughing together. The bench woman has stopped smoking, and is looking at the dancing hoodie. She saw me looking at her looking at him and smiled at me. I like her. Music starts up VERY LOUD, coming from inside, it’s that song, um “if you want me, you can tell me..” Is that Madonna? How awesome is it that they crank up the music THAT LOUD. I love loud pop music. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions” – yes I’m pretty sure that’s a Madonna song.
Oh, I just looked all the way to my right and saw the dark water. Oh, just looked at plaid hoodie. He is now FACING ME and dancing, and every so often he freezes a move. Has a cap on, but I’m pretty sure we just looked at each other. OH MY GOD, I THINK FOR JUST A MOMENT HE WAS DANCING FOR ME. This is very cool. I feel very alive. He’s finished now and strolling to the table, no, just checked his mobile and he’s dancing again. A very elderly couple just walked past right in front of him, didn’t seem to notice each other. Elderly man has arm around grey-haired woman, she has a baby pink blazer, cute. I don’t believe it, a woman just walked past who I remember from my school days. She’s the older sister of a guy who was in my class. She looks very put together, snazzy. She had kitten heel boots, nice look.
Just remembered that the famous aussie actor never came out of the dance doors. I hope I didn’t miss him. Ooo, very sweaty people leaving through doors now, men have baseball caps on backwards and one is repeating “well, you know me, you know me.” I wish I did know him, looks intriguing. Music cranks up again, I’m going to see if I can peek in.
7 comments:
I can see them all - well, save for the Aussie actor.
A Russian husband, eh?
Enjoyed the brief glimpse of a Sydney evening.
Looking forward to the Russian Husband post.
I enjoyed my evening in Sydney.
You are a born story-teller.
A new writer lurks around the recesses of dance classes and coffee shops. she writes of yearnings and with passion I feel delighted to share. There are some secret recesses to the mind of this writer. She is miss E and she is fabulous!
Wonderful. Let's go again soon, shall we?
ErinH
My brother is a dancer. I know exactly what you mean about looking lean and fit under the floppy clothing. Damnit.
My brother is a dancer. I know exactly what you mean about looking lean and fit under the floppy clothing. Damnit.
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