THE ATLANTIC CITY FILES: DAY ONE

11:30 PM. Today was a relatively long day for me, starting at around 6:00 in the AM with mi fidanzata calling and me completely missing each and every single one of her calls for the simple reason that I am a fool for putting my telephone on silent the night before. Thankfully, the alarum still awoke me from my slumber.

I put off getting my gear in order until earlier today because I knew full well that there were many things that I still had need of for this morning’s rituals. Whilst I was in the shower, I mentally took note of the things that I ought not to forget, for New Jersey is a long ways off from where I was then. I still managed to forget my belt upon my rack in my room, and I just barely made it to the studio at the agreed time of 10:00 AM.

Interestingly enough, the bus arrived at 11:30 AM, a full hour off of what was promised. As soon as it arrived, everything and everyone was packed in and we were out of there.

Heaven is a Pit Stop in Delaware

We shared the bus with another studio and we received quite a warm welcome from them by means of them saying a greeting in unison that in appreciation, our studio tried to reciprocate. Sadly, an extra hour of waiting had taken its toll upon us all and it didn’t come out as strongly as we would’ve wanted. Besides, they’ve had the whole bus trip coming to us to practice.

I parked myself in an empty compartment with the window to my left and the other studio right behind me. To say that they were an energetic bunch wouldn’t be too far from the truth; one of the other instructors from their studio played host/cruise director, much to everyone’s delight. One of their other instructors made the rounds as well and she would park herself in random compartments, just to chat.

I must admit that she’s a beautiful woman, if you’re into brunettes with curly tresses. I’ve known her for a year now so we talked about this and that. I asked how her boyfriend was doing, and she said that since their schedules are so drastically different, it was relatively challenging.

After talking to her for a bit, we arrived at DE and we all got off of the bus at the HMSHost (Delaware House Travel Plaza). For thirty minutes, we walked, stretched, and hungrily bolted down what we could get our paws on.

Welcome to Atlantic City

Not too long after that, we soon found ourselves coming to the end of DE and getting onto our exit to Atlantic City. Admittedly, I had not been hit by the fact that I was going to Dance-O-Rama all throughout the lessons with my students for the past month or so. Even when other instructors were psyched and congratulating me for accomplishing such a feat, I just brushed it off as just another dance event.

That mindset held until I saw the Welcome to Atlantic City! sign come into view. Then, my heart skipped a couple of beats and the realization that it was really happening finally hit me. I took a steadying breath, closed my eyes for a second, and smiled.

Thursday Solos

The bus arrived at the Hilton Casino Hotel at around 3 in the afternoon. All the male instructors in our bus helped unload the bags so that people could immediately check in. We took the escalators down to the lobby, lined up to get our keys and room numbers and then we all went to freshen up a bit. By 5:30, we all came back down for dinner which was held at the Cornucopia Buffet. By 6:30, I was back in my room gathering music and changing to my clothes for that night’s Solo Routines.

I walked in the ballroom at 6:45. The floor itself was well-lit and many students were already walking through their routines either by themselves or with their respective instructors. To say that I was blown away would be a gross understatement; there were 28 different studios from the all over participating; one of them even traveled all the way from Ramat Hasharon, Israel to be part of it, and there was a moment of uncertainty on my part when the whole thing started rolling. I was wondered if my students would even be up to the competition.

As luck would have it, the first two Solo Routines that I was to do with my students were Solo Numbers 4 and 5. We lined up behind the ones before us, and realized that Solo Number 3 was nowhere in sight. They told us that he was a no-show, and before we even had time to contemplate that tidbit or get nervous, it was our time to dance.

The first routine that I did was a Waltz, and we did it to Under the Bridges of Paris, the instrumental version. Having done this particular one in another event not more than 2 months back, it was still quite fresh upon the minds and bodies of both me and my student. The one right after though, was entirely another story.

Tango del Amor was the chosen song, and just by knowing the name of the song, you already know the dance. Sadly, that is not truly the case for the dancer. The student that I had dancing this had not been to the studio for well over a week and practices were few and far in between. Truthfully, the practices are for me to remember the steps so that even if the student completely forgot the routine, I could still somehow strong arm them through. Having less time to work on it actually made my job far more difficult. We somehow got through that minute and a half with nary a scene.

The next routine that I had down was Solo Number 84. That gave me about 2 hours in between. I rushed to change so that I could get back immediately. The student that I was dancing this with was the same one that I had had for Solo Number 5. We went through the steps enough times for her to recall the sequence and then we danced it to Kokomo. That Rumba at least looked neater than her prior dance.

After the first Solo Routine, the ones that followed it were no longer as intimidating. It also gave me an insight: trust in your students’ abilities. After all, they’ve worked hard and long on those dances.

That first day lasted until a little past midnight. I thanked my students and said that I was looking forward to dancing with them in the next day’s events which were the closed category dances.