The troupe has been asked to do 'a turn' at the forthcoming Britain in Luxembourg exhibition (13th 14th September if you're passing this way). So I joined the 8 willing volunteers to rehearse (scheduled into the 10 minute break). I was still feeling a bit rejected, neglected, and generally cast aside, and wasn't helped when the choreographer starting assigning parts and lines to all the others.
It starts with one shy girl singing a couple of lines, then another one comes in and sings over the top of her, then a couple come on and take over... you get the picture. So he turned to me, smiled, and said;
'... and then you come from the back of the stage, barge your way through them all, and bellow out "Tooooo Washington Heights!".'
My heart soared, and I broke into a broad smile. The only snag is, singing's not my strong point, though I'd dearly love to be able to do that rough growly voice. Anyway, I'm practising in the shower (apologies to all my neighbours), determined to make the most of my 15 minutes of fame.
Hmmmmm. Well despite assurances that Stepping Out cast members would not get first dibs on this routine, it seems to have turned into a free for all. Not only are most of the cast in it (mumble grumble) but also some of the others with 2 left feet (even more mumble grumble). So we are looking at a stage packed with 20 people, a routine that's been dumbed down, and a whole mish-mash of dancing styles and abilities. I know, I know, I should be all sweetness and light, and 'the more the merrier', but I'm trying out bitch-mode this week to see if that produces better results for me.
I try not to get to rehearsals too early these days, otherwise I have to watch the choreographer work with Mavis, and swallow my 'it should've been me' thoughts. My paranoia went into overtime last week when it transpired that there was a party on the Saturday night, to which I wasn't invited, and I had to listen to effusive invitations and 'you MUST come's being given to others. Maybe they do all hate me.