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Will Tampa Bay Dancer be the next Tampa Bay Modeling?
By C. A. Passinault
The following is an article about the next big thing, Tampa Bay Dancer, and includes a deeply personal story about an experience which would later inspire the creation of the Tampa Bay Dancer career resource site for professional dancers in the Tampa Bay market.

Will Tampa Bay Dancer be the next Tampa Bay Modeling?
Article Index

01. Dancers are the new model
02. The mis perception of dancing in Tampa Bay
03. The dancer in my soul, and the tragedy which became an inspiration for Tampa Bay Dancer
04. She wanted to be a part of my career, as well as the princess in my life
05. Fallen Angel - Accepting what was not to be as a dancer loses her dream
06. A hot modeling shoot, and the beginning of the end of us
07. Compromise - Believing what you want to as my ex asks me to DJ her wedding! Also, why I came to hate con artists and scams.
08. Tampa Bay Dancer - How the past inspires the future

PREVIOUS: The dancer in my soul, and became Tampa Bay Dancer - Dancers are the new model - NEXT: Fallen Angel - A dancer loses her dream

She wanted to be a part of my career, as well as the princess in my life

On the way to the venue, I reflected on how we once were, and how she was changing to be a very different person. She was becoming a person who was not worthy of any respect. In the Summer of 1994, we were in her apartment, alone (her boyfriend at the time, who used to be my best friend, and who would become husband #2 in 1996, was working), and she was crying about my DJ’ing and event planning endeavors, and that she knew that I would one day be very successful at it (I already was as an underground DJ), and that she wanted to be a part of my career. She also wanted us to be close again, like we were two years before. She wanted us to be together. She told me that she wanted to be the princess in my life. She asked me if things could go back to what they were before. This, of course, brought me to tears, and I told her that I didn’t know. I really didn’t know, as she had hurt me badly. We had a lot of emotional baggage from 1992, however, which was the worst year of my life (she and my best friend abandoned me, as we had all been roommates, leaving me in quite the mess, and I lost everything, going through something that I certainly did not deserve), and I wasn’t quite ready to entirely open up to her like I had before. So, we went on like that for years. We had quite the ongoing, dysfunctional relationship, and we were stuck in some sort of weird limbo.
At any rate, we arrived at the venue. My DJ was already there, and we started setting up. We set up the sound equipment, lighting, and the fog machine for the dance area. We did a sound check. I left her to rehearsing her routine, and went around setting up other details, such as the two linked Playstations and TV’s in the game area, and the clues for the interactive story of the theme event. Upon completing that, barely on time, we were ready to start.
The first guests started to arrive.
My little dancer? She wanted me to walk outside with her. I told her that this was a bad time to go walking around, when we were minutes from starting.
She told me that she had to go. She told me that she had to go to that other dancing job, because some celebrity was going to be there, and that she was going to make $250.00 from him.
We walked out to her car, and she got inside. Her slender legs hung out of the open door.
I pulled out $300.00 from my wallet, and told her that, if money was her problem, that I’d consider giving her that to stay and do her job (I really just wanted to see what she would say, and never expected her to say yes from the weird way that she was acting. It was a game of chicken, and I wanted to bust her in a lie, which I did. I would have been a real schmuck had she agreed and I had paid her that much for 30 minutes of work, as I would have caved in to B.S. Give me more credit than that). She’d be done in less than 30 minutes, at which time she could leave if it was really that much of an emergency, although she had promised to help me with the entire event.
She told me no, and that she had to go.
I became pretty irate, told her that she should go off and do whatever, and turned to walk back into the venue. She got out, and tried to kiss me. I pulled away.
“Don’t be like that.....” She exclaimed.
“I have a job to do. So do you. This is it. This is what we always talked about. This is what you’ve always wanted. Make your choice.”
So, I walked back inside, upset. She left. My DJ noticed what was going on, and told me that everything would be fine. He had it, and we’d work around the hole that she had left in the opening exposition of the theme event.
It was a theme event with an interactive story which I had wrote about espionage and a spy ring, kind of like a secret agent event. I think what we did was improvise, and we told the guests that enemy agents had taken out our dancer. It worked. The event was an amazing success. I even had fun in the game area, which I had two linked Sony Playstations and two televisions set up, beating the guy who was the aspiring boyfriend of my client at Ridge Racer Revolution.
I wasn’t happy with my dancing whatever-she-was, though. I was pretty pissed off. It became obvious to me that she had meant to sabotage me all along.
Her behavior was the most unprofessional experience which I’ve had since this all began in 1990. It was the most unprofessional thing that I have ever experienced. Sure, we had a long personal history, but when you are doing a job, you put those personal issues aside, and work together. Besides, I really had not done anything for her to get back at me over, at any rate.
But why? What could her motivation have been?
Was she afraid of performing in front of an audience? No. She was very experienced performing on stage, present occupation excluded. Was it really about the money? No, again, as I was able to pay her, and it was bittersweet that she did not call me on it.
I think that it was personal, and that she was trying to get back at me for something. Perhaps it was because I didn’t want to get an apartment with her so we could live together, like she had suggested a few weeks earlier. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t. I told her that, and she was not happy at all. At the time, I was building a studio, and my living arrangements would not have supported living with her. My family, too, hated her, and it would have alienated them from me. After my family and I had previously been alienated back in 1992 over her and her nonsense, I wasn’t about to risk that happening again. Six years was much too soon for that kind of thing to happen again. Also, the bottom line was that it was hard to trust her in 1994. I certainly didn’t trust her in 1998, with all of the idiotic things that she was doing. From day to day, it was something different and reckless. I even found out, from her sister, that she and this young girl that she was hanging out with met some random guy at a Denny’s and had a three way with him at her family’s dance studio. Don’t even get me into what I found out about her and a 19 year old dancer named Jack, who was on scholarship at the studio. They were doing far more than dancing at the studio, from what her sister told me, even when she was married to husband #2. I suspect that, during a dance recital where they did a performance together, that when he dipped her too low to the floor, and she hit her head, that it was no accident. I could imagine that he hated her, too.
It could have been this: The theme event was a prototype, and Marlon, my DJ, and I were doing it for my friend, who was my client, to test some event concepts out, and work out the kinks. It just so happened that the client was an attractive woman, and we were good friends. I’m thinking that my dancer friend was jealous. My dancer certainly acted jealous the previous few outings with my friend, where she had to hang out with us.
I know this much. Although she had begged to be a part of my business four years before, when the time came, she flaked. I decided that her unprofessional behavior could not be tolerated, and that I would never work with her again.
That dream was destroyed, and my patience in our personal life was wearing thin.

PREVIOUS: The dancer in my soul, and became Tampa Bay Dancer - Dancers are the new model - NEXT: Fallen Angel - A dancer loses her dream

PUBLISHED 05/03/11

UPDATED 05/03/11

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