Wednesday, September 25, 2013

I had a pit in my stomach the whole day today worrying about the rip in the garbage bag that holds the 30 multicolored gymnastic balls that I need for tonight's exercise class and knowing how little time I had to drag it from sala/studio uno to sala due. It is also a problem that there is less space in sala due and that there is no stage. I have to teach on two high and unstable boxes pushed together so that the people in the back can see me. Since both studios are occupied until 7:50 pm, I only have ten minutes to set up my music, drag the new garbage bag that I got from the gym kitchen filled with the balls, and convince poor Andrea the trainer on the main floor (who now hates me) to help me get the weights and the stage set up.

Worst of all was the fear that my boss Giacomo would have forgotten to tell Ricky, the Jack La Lane of the fancy gym, to finish his class with the ten minute grace period that we are supposed to afford our fellow teachers. Somebody told me that Ricky didn't like me because I got one of his classtimes when they hired me and somebody else told me that he doesn't like me because I am from New York and he lost out on a chance to become a New York Yankee back in the day. I figured he hated me because I told on him for putting me in a choke hold during rehearsals. As it turned out, Giacomo did forget. And when I told Ricky I needed ten minutes to set up, he told me he wasn't clearing out one minute before eight o'clock. He flatly refused to give me the grace period. And not only did he wait until the last minute, but he left the stereo system set to CD and I didn't know how to set it for my Ipod so that wasted another five minutes right there. I was so anxious up on the stage with Ricky's girlfriend Lisa watching me start my class, hands on her hips, and her head cocked to one side, that I botched up a bunch of things right off the bat.

 For one thing, the room was too dark and I couldn't see the abstract art clock that they have on the far wall so I had no idea how to manage my time. I like to call that clock "that m*ther f**king clock," but I'm too classy to do so here. The stereo is about half a block away from my stage so everytime I had to pause the music, it was a nightmare. This young girl who is a powerful zumba cult member and could bring fifteen friends with her, brought her mother who was as uncoordinated as they get and I couldn't help her out because the evening class is advanced and fast paced and we were already running late. She left about a quarter of the way through. I sat by and helplessly watched her leave because I couldn't jump up and down off the cube to go help people by making corrections. After it was all over, my friends asked me why I was so nervous during the lesson  right as one of the gym owners was passing by and so he threw me a concerned look. I finished the night by begging the receptionist to leave my boss a message explaining what happened. I can only imagine how uncomfortable it will be to sit with all of them in the staff meeting on Thursday night.

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