I’ve been to a handful of ballroom and Latin competitions with David, when only he’s been dancing.
He may say otherwise, but I do honestly try to play the role of “ever-so-helpful girlfriend”.
Really, I don’t even complain that much about it.
On competition day, I would drive us to wherever the event was being held, check us into the hotel, and lug suit carriers, shoe bags, and cases full of hairspray and deodorant around. I would buy coffee, water and Anadin and try and offer snacks, which would then be refused every time. “I don’t eat on comp day”, huffed the same reply.
So I’d sit and eat said snacks (a win-win for everyone in my book) and enjoy the show of dancing happening in front of me.
Now and then I would be called to help straighten a collar, or find a missing button, or fetch another coffee. Only coffee. mind. I once bought a blue slushie as a treat but it turned his mouth, lips, and tongue blue the moment before he was due to walk onto the floor. Not my best moment… but pretty hilarious in hindsight (to me).
But now it’s my turn. This Sunday I’ll be at the doors of Dudley College at the crack of 9am.
It’s New Competitors Day, fit for newbies who haven’t really been in a competition before. It’ll give me a small glimpse of what’s to come in January – for the Blackpool qualifiers…
This time, instead of sitting in my hoodie, chilling out, scoffing Pringles and watching David compete like usual; I’ll be a bundle of nerves, clicking my ballroom shoes together, sipping hot coffee through perfectly lined lips, refusing even the smallest snack like a Primadonna.
I’ve got my outfit ready, and my waltz and samba routines nailed.
Now I’ve just got to get out on the floor and do the absolute best I possibly can.
Then, once it’s all over, I’ll sit in my car, fake eyelashes still half glued to my face, and chow down a large McDonald’s Chicken Legend meal.
I’m excited though – full of nerves but full of excitement. Dancing is what I love, and I can’t wait to have my first taste of a real competition…