I got off freestyle today, and unexpectedly ran into Dance Coach. Maybe it's the Russian tonality of his voice, but whenever he runs into me at the rink outside of lesson it sounds like I'm being grilled by the FSB.
"What are you doing here?" he asks with suspicious undertones, as if I'm smuggling state ice dance secrets out of the country.
"I took the day off to practice." I take a seat to get out of my boots and smile at the woman seated facing me across the narrow lobby. She's my age and looks timid and hesitant. I turn to Dance Coach. "I practiced the Nasty and the Blues. I think I have them down." I bend down to untie my boots.
Dance Coach mock arrogantly says, "We'll see about that tomorrow."
My head snaps up. I give an exaggerated gusty laugh. "Oh-ho-ho! So is this evil Russian ice dance coach talking? 'You talkin' to me?'"
We banter back and forth like this for a minute, settling some rink business about some boots I need to pick up and my music, then Dance Coach leave to change into his coach suit. I shove my boots into my bag, and glance across the short distance to the older woman facing me. I swear, she has a look of horror on her face as I walk out of the rink to put my boots in my car.
When I come back to pick up the boots Dance Coach brought in for me, I see him speaking to the shy woman.
Oh, God. She's his student! And from her shyness, she must be a new student! And she's witnessed the two of us bickering like crows, no wonder she had that look of horror on her face! She's wondering what's she's got herself into!