Tales from the Wood Floor – Case of the Missing Earring

In the beginning, most female newbie competitors bought or borrowed that “used” hand-me-down costume. You know, to see if they really wanted to do this thing. So, Susie bought a dress from a serious Pro/Am lady who buys several dresses per year maybe in hopes that the next dress will be “The One,” that magical dress that will enlighten those blind judges to see how she really dances. The previous dresses obviously were not doing their job. Or maybe she just liked to buy lots of dresses. Susie’s purchase of this used beauty was met with extreme anticipation…her first Smooth competition dress! One problem…the dress bust, or lack thereof, needed to be seriously expanded (Yes, all this graphic description does relate to the story).

After alterations, the result was a nice flowing costume with a plunging neckline. Back in 2015, this neckline was perfectly suitable for competition, but in today’s world, she would have been “inboobilated” within minutes of walking off the floor. If you are not familiar with the term (from noun inboobilation), please refer to the excellent article on this touchy subject.  To continue our story…

Chicago, 2015.

We’re off to try out our spiffy Bronze moves in the new dress. To complete the look, Susie brought her best jewelry and went all in. With hair and makeup done by professionals, she looked good. Back in those days, the Bronze and Silver heats were quarterfinals and semifinals, lots of dancing in a single day (and plenty of wear and tear on costumes). The Deck Captain would chase us down, a job similar to herding cattle, and we would be meticulously lined up in the cattle chute ten couples deep, snorting, fidgeting, ready to go. At the announcer’s introduction, the gate opened (figuratively) and the contestants spilled onto the floor. Off we went, our first competition. As the day progressed, during one of our Tango heats, Susie decided to really snap her head…and off went both earrings, whereabouts unknown. The heat ended, and we attempted to locate the lost earrings, but the next heat was already in progress. A disappointed Susie remarked, “There goes some expensive earrings. We will never find them.”

However, a young lad, more interested in tracking a flying object from one of the dancer’s heads than watching a bunch of old people dance, ran up with an earring in hand. Susie thanked him but the backing and the other earring were still lost so she had to (in her mind) go basically naked (earring-less) to finish the day. As luck would have it, we made the next round, so back to the cattle chute. Before the fidgeting and snorting began anew, Susie started fussing loudly, with Popeye’s best cuss words thrown in. The ladies rushed to Susie’s rescue — Susie must be in serious distress and her worthless partner was doing nothing. In my defense, with what was happening, I was too stunned to move. I think “worthless” was a little harsh.

Susie, being a doctor in Internal Medicine and not shy about human anatomy, cursed again, and started searching her outer bust area. The men forgot about the competition and there was a breakdown of discipline in our beautifully formed line. The Deck Captain frowned (If Jack Jaubert were in charge, he would not have been happy). Without hesitation, Susie reached her entire hand/arm down the front of her dress. I mean to her elbow. She began digging around. The ladies were aghast. The men were now totally focused (not on the competition). I was backing up hiding. At this point, she looked as if she was about to pull out a rabbit by the ears. The crowd leaned in. After a few tense seconds, Susie extracted (visualize dentist removing tooth with forceps) the lost earring. Its long needle backing had fallen into her dress bustline and was treating certain anatomical parts like a pinata.

Proud of her surgical accomplishment, she held the earring in the air for all to see. Everyone was cheering, even the Deck Captain was impressed. It was like she won the Earring Extraction Award. I wondered if it was the only award we would win.

The new dress had created the perfect safety net, and I speculated what else might have fallen down there (bobby pins, lipstick case, heat sheets?). The announcer paused and cast a glare at the now unruly on-deck area. No time for celebration, it was time to be released from the chute. Back to snorting and fidgeting.

Later, a spectator asked us what happened and why everyone was smiling and laughing as they came out onto the floor. “Chute secrets,” I said. Some things are just not for the general public.

Back home, as we told the story to our coach, she rolled her eyes and asked, “Was this a dancing-grade earring? If not, did you add glue?”  Huh? Oooops! And what happened to the famous dress? The dress was sold to a young Adult competitor at the Nationals’ consignment shop. The legend lives on.