I know what's coming next. "Oh, I'm in the film business and you're really going to be impressed," I deadpan. I see the blank look. The what the fuck?! I start with the details. His eyes widen. His jaw drops. I laugh. It never fails. He's excited and delighted. I'm mixed. Because now I have his attention but I'm no longer the anonymous middle-aged housewife he thought I was. I keep talking. I spin out name after name after name in the film pantheon. His smile widens. For all my own whining, the path is impressive to those in different fields. I've repeated it a million times. Yet I'm always surprised too in the telling. The accumulation beyond my girlhood dreams. It's been one day at a time, but in retrospect, it's fucking awesome.
He walks me to the door and gives a half awkward hug because that's how I am with strangers. What'll this mean for my dancing? I tell him I wish I was better at it. He smiles, "well at least it's good exercise, it gets your heart going." And we part til tomorrow. Will he call on me more to demonstrate? Use me for his hilarious wisecracks? We'll see. But my anonymity is gone.