It’s not every day a famous dancer calls the house…

We got a call from a special person last night. Around 6:45 I was bouncing around the living room (I’ve still got “The Nutcracker” choreography on the brain) and my cellular rang from the sitting room. The number was unrecognizable, as was the area code, so I picked it up and in a blasé tone said “Hello?”

It was a well-known male principal dancer (hint: his name scrambled = nadeli bhceurit or  you could think “Queen Mab” soliloquy). My sister Dione and I met when he was guest dancing in Mobile. We told him how much we visited New York, and he told us to give him a call if we ever wanted a tour of New York state theatre.

Last Sunday we got his number and I gave him a ring, only to hear his cheery voice on the answering machine. I left a message but guessed that he’d “ignore it.” So when I heard his voice chatting away last night I was surprised, but sad that Dione wasn’t there. She came back from a ballet class just before I hung up. When I pointed to the phone and mouthed his name, she walked like a mummy into the sitting room and nearly fainted on the couch. She’s a huge fan, obviously.

In addition to our tour, we talked about his guest performing gigs, his holiday activities and the different ballet’s he’ll be cast in the next few weeks. He was extremely polite and hopefully not annoyed. When I mentioned his time in Mobile and that everyone was still raving about him, he said “Mobile was a blast.”

When I hung up I recounted the whole conversation to Dione and we jumped around the house dancing and screaming and calling all our friends (”You won’t believe who called tonight!”).

I think perhaps that we are the luckiest girls in the world.