I was sitting on the aisle, and Greg was sitting on my left. It emerged that he was a dancer and taught Pilates. I was like, "Where do you teach Pilates?" because I had wanted to take Pilates all this past school year. When he told me, I realized I recognized him; I had perused that venue's website and had seen his photo. And his now-defunct Pilates blog.
We talked about dance, and it must be said that too much of my end of the conversation entailed me gushing about Batsheva, themostoriginalamazingdancecompanyinthewholeentireworld.
I was flattered when Greg emailed me a short poem the next day. Here it is:
She was born a Rothschild
End of story