In my own little So You Think You Can Dance episode

I, by nature, am a dancer. I say that not in the sense that I’m a prima ballerina (ballerino?) and can dance circles around anyone, but I do love dancing. And in all ernest, I’m not bad either like that creepy guy from So You Think You Can Dance who auditions every year and says he’s a dancer and just flails his arms all around. But I can definitely hold my own.

I tend to put my headphones at work and listen to music while I’m working because I got so used to working in noisy environments that when it gets too quiet, my head starts to catch outside noises and conversations and my focus gets distracted. It’s like the noise is this streamlined bridge that carries my thoughts on one direct line.

Anyways, I love listening to musical theater (of course) while I’m at work. They tend to be great because it’s a steady streamline of storyline that I can follow and keeps me even keel. Once in awhile I’ll deviate and click on my workout mix or my “pump it up” music. That’s where this story pretty much begins. It pretty much starts with me at work and a great beat.

It’s been one of those weeks that make me want to tear my hair out and today just seems to be the culmination of it. So I put my headphones as usual in hopes of phasing out the issues and stupidity around me and just work on me, my work and other things. My iPod was plugged in and I was ready to get my zone on.

I put my iPod on shuffle and let the iPod take me on a musical vacation for the next couple of hours. The first song was a nice little ditty called “Toy Soldier” by Britney Spears on her “Blackout” album (the fat to post-crack phase). Surely, everyone knows our princess of pop is fierce when it comes to this bubblegum dirtiness, which I describe as the gum that got stuck in your hair type of bubblegum in that it was phenomenally good gum and got in your hair after some rough and tumble dirty times.

So here I am at my desk listening to Britney’s boy-crazy pop and I begin to phase out and go into my personal VH1 channel starting a music video in my head. That’s where things began getting dangerous.

My head started back-tapping into the music and I began feeling my face mean-mugging like I was revving up for an audition or getting ready to start a girl fight. The beat was getting more into my system when I notice I was now typing to the beat. Then my feet started tapping. That’s when it all went down hill.

I looked around and noticed no one was looking around. At this point, I don’t know what happened but surely I stepped out of my body and just let it go on all its own.

I had pushed my chair back from my keyboard tray and had my hands on my arm rests, my legs spread apart like a new startlet auditioning for my next film, and my body chest pulsating back and forth into the beat. Then, I threw my head to my right and started a slow roll like I was in the beginning stages of a good ecstasy trip. I wasn’t sure what was going on except that it was Me Against the Music.

I broke out into a full chair routine in my cube. Not even a clean broadway Chicago-esque routine. We’re talking Janet Jackson Velvet Rope Tour/ Britney’s latest music video, nastiness. I mean I was giving “face” to my computer monitor like it was nobody’s business. After about eight 8-counts of pulsing my chest, thrusting pelvis up and down from the chair, with some nice body rolls and quick throws of my upper torso, I decided that the camera was about to switch to another shot and I had a new scenario to fall into – the dark hallway scene.

So I now had my iPod in hand and tucked it into my pocket meaning I was free from the prison of my cube. It was time for that fierce walk down a crowded hallway giving dirty looks to people as I pass them, taking short breaks to lean against the wall, then throw my back against it to slide down. However instead of half naked twenty-somethings sweating and going to first base with each other on the walls, it was earth toned cloth cube walls and mid 40’s coworkers sitting in their cubes. That didn’t stop me from getting out of my cube and walking down the cube aisle and actually going to into full strut mode thinking my backup dancers were about come up behind me for our great dance routine at the end of the hallway.

Once I completed my dirty self indulgent walk down the aisle into the office hallway, I decided to have my own Womanizer moment in front of the copier and photocopied my hand, printed it and then crumpled it and threw it into a trash bin.

I then proceeded down hallway into full routine with slides, huge arms throws and sharp crisp moves.

Well, THAT’S WHEN MY BUBBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN BURST.

Behind me stood about 5 coworkers who were probably coming from break.

I don’t remember music videos having khakis, polos, and 30-year old something secretaries.

I don’t think they knew what to do at this point either since they were probably just as uncomfortable in this moment as I was because they were just caught staring.

Well as I looked at them and waved with a completely red face, I kinda had to ask, “What do I do now?”

There was no turning back and like any good performer, the show must go on and you must deliver.

So I did, I turned and strutted all the way back to my office. And right as I approached the door, I turned back and gave them a smirk and wave. I was glad to see 3 of them applauding me as I exited off stage.

That’s all you can ask for – a standing ovation, right?