Dancewear Store Husband

Hello World! OK, I have to admit that this is my first blog. Before today, I couldn't spell blag. But this isn't about my spelling (which is horrible) it's about my life as the husband of a retail dancewear store savior. I say "savior" because she's always trying make miracles out of chaos. Instead of saying, "you need it when!?", she says "I will astonish you!" This is great, and she indeed does astonish all of her customers--but at what cost? You should listen to our dinner conversations. They're amazing recaps of every possible special order, custom-cut, double-rush dilemma since yesterday's dinner.

My wife teams with a small handful of employees who, together, have more passion about their jobs than the Titan's offense. They literally live and breath dancewear, and beating the challenge of getting the RIGHT dancewear to the right person at the right time. It's truly amazing to me. They make me feel like I should get hobby or something.

But my rub is this..."remember me?" I'm the guy who was kind of your partner when you started this 15 YEARS AGO. Remember how you made me stuff cards under wipers, and staple ads to telephone poles? Remember how I snuck use of the copy machine at work--running exactly 1000 fliers so the office administrator might think she misread the meter? Remember how you used to take me to all the dance events to sit with you between customers? And what about the store? Who painted the store?? Who built the dressing rooms??? Who is the maintenance guy that gets ZERO credit for fixing toilets and sanding tap shoe marks out of the floor???? Dancewear????