Virtual Ballet With Laci Evergreen

The video starts and a woman with an uneven tan is smiling at the camera, hair not quite done, donning a bright pink unitard with a flimsy pink tutu -- not like the real ballerinas wear, but something you’d get from a gag gift shop. The only part of her that maintains some semblance of a pristine quality is her smile.

“Hello,” she says to the camera. “Welcome to Virtual Ballet with Laci Evergreen. And of course, I am Laci Evergreen. It would be quite awkward if my name was Daisy Gugenthal, wouldn’t it?” 

She guffaws at her stupid joke which she has probably practiced nine times. Her laughter is cut short by a one-eyed Corgi with mustard-colored fur sticking its face in the path of the camera, taking up the entire screen.

“Oh,” Laci says from behind, delighted, “And this camera shy little scamp is my lovely assistant Mercutio. Say hi to the people at home, Mercutio.”

Mercutio happily obliges, his grin wide and his single eye making love to the camera. He barks once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Si --

“OK, that’s enough,” Laci abruptly comes in and snatches Mercutio out of the way.

“Quit hogging the limelight,” she playfully says, sending scampering off perhaps to cause havoc at some other part of the universe.

She starts to stretch to the left and right.

“But anyway, do you guys, gals, and people-persons out there have a dream? I have a dream, I wanted to someday dance ballet before a live audience and now look at me. I’m dancing in front of --”

She comes closer, checking the viewer count. She backs away, eyes a little defeated.

“OK, two people,” but she shakes it off instantly, and that winning smile blossoms back onto her face.

”But you know what they say. Every journey starts with a single step and every dancer’s journey starts with a single plié. As a matter of fact, let’s warm up with some light pliés, shall we?”

She enthusiastically returns to her spot on the floor and starts doing second position pliés. Her form is probably the sloppiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, but she emotes such confidence one might think she took at least one ballet class in her life.

“Just so you know,” she continues, “the only equipment you’ll need for this class is yourself and a couple of one-pound weights. Now, if you don’t have one-pound weights you can get creative and use a can good, a bottle of water, a bottle of… vodka.”

Continuing her pliés, she again seems amused by her own joke. 

“Now, there’s no judgment here. Use whatever you have at the house. Any weighted item -- alcoholic or non-alcoholic -- will do.”

She continues with the warmup, but a knowing smile has been plastered on her lips throughout and one gets the sneaking suspicion that’s not the only thing that’s plastered. 

With each plié, her smile gets broader as if she’s holding back some private gossip she can’t wait to tell. Unable to suppress it, she finally unleashes the secret -- a little too proudly. 

“I had a couple of drinks, you know?”

It’s 9:05 AM.

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t one of those Woe-Is-Me drinks. It was a celebration.”

The claim actually sounds halfway believable as she finishes the warm-up and goes to the kitchen. 

“Let’s go get our ‘weights,”

A little too enthusiastically, she uses her fingers to create quotes. 

She disappears out of view and suddenly all you can hear is “Oh give me those, Mercutio! I told you I’m done drinking for the day!”

Mercutio doesn’t sound like the chipper pup from earlier. He’s growling apparently drawn into a life or death battle of tug of war over a bottle of Crown.

“Mercutio! Stop! This is for my video! My video!”

There’s a loud thud. The sound of items crashing all over the place. Moments later Laci bursts back onto the screen, hair more disheveled, a bruise on her forehead, but the immaculate smile still in place. She has a bottle of Crown in one hand and the aforementioned Vodka in the other.

“Pardon me, we had a few technical difficulties. Now let’s start with our one-pound weights.”

She starts doing second position pliés while doing ballerina arms above her head. Getting her audience on track, she moves to the next story.

“Speaking of technical difficulties, what ‘technical difficulties’ are you dealing with in life? Well, I’m here to tell you you can turn your technical difficulties into a dream. For instance --”

Suddenly, Laci is gone and all that is visible is a giant tongue.

“Mercutio! Out of the way!”

He moves. She reappears, continuing.

“For instance, yesterday my boss and I had a disagreement. It was over the concept of time. I took the more Eistenien route, theorizing that time was an illusion and so what did it mattered if I showed up at nine o’clock or twelve forty-eight? It was all the same.”

She stops with a smile and leans into the camera confidentially. 

“My manager disagreed.”

Her smile gets interrupted by a knock upon the door.

“Oops. Keep pliéing. I’ll be back.”

Off to the side, she can be seen answering the door. The person she is speaking to obviously towers over her as she cranes her neck to talk to him.

“What seems to be the problem?” she says in her customer service voice.

“YOUR DOG HAS BEEN SCREWING MY DOG!” says the voice of a neanderthal ready to rip off a person’s head at the slight provocation.

Ever the perennial ball of sunshine, Laci Evergreen doesn’t flinch, “That’s impossible.”

“I saw that one-eyed freak screwing her the other day,” the caveman’s voice insists.

“He’s not a freak!” she says getting a little defensive. “Besides, I’ve seen your dog and Mercutio being interested in her is impossible. I know for a fact that Mercutio isn’t a chubby chaser.”

“Wait! Did you just call my dog fat!”

 Probably foreseeing a violent outburst, she cuts the conversation short.

“Sir, I do not appreciate you smearing my dog’s good name,” she says. “If you wish to continue with these slanderous accusations you can speak to my lawyer. Bye.”

She slams the door and immediately faces inward. Her mood turning on a dime from Devil-May-Care to Highly Disappointed Owner.

“MERCUTIO!”

He casually scampers to her, tongue hanging to the ground in boundless glee. His party is cut short when he sees the expression on Lacie’s face.

“I had to cover for you again!”

Pathetic whimpers can be heard as Laci’s music continues.

“I told you there’s a nice German Shephard down the street, but NOOO you’re so particular and have to go see Captain Insano’s Dachshund Hound!”  

His whimpers grow so much they eventually get to her and she succumbs to pull of his irresistible puppy-dog eye.

“Awww. I’m so sorry. You follow your heart wherever it leads you.”

A look on her face as if she is dwelling upon the beauty of love, she’s in a state of exquisite bliss as she struts back to the camera and her audience. 

“Oh, I can’t stay mad at Mercutio,” she explains. “He’s my true soul mate. Let’s do some plié-passés, shall we?”

She bends and straightens her legs only to go onto one leg into a quarter-way decent passé, repeating the action.

“I’m sure you notice that Mercutio has one eye and he gets made fun of it for it, but we’re all like Mercutio, aren’t we? We all get made fun of.

“Take me for instance, I’ve been called a few names in my day. Weirdo, scatter-brain, ‘two months late on the rent check’ but me and Mercutio have a secret weapon to protect us from those names. You know what that secret weapon is?”

Her two audience members are probably on the edge of their seats.

“A smile!”

She goes on, doing her moves.

“Yes, we need all the smiles we can to shield us from negative people. You want to see a picture of a real Negative Nancy?”

She calls out to her dog, “Mercutio, go fetch my boyfriend!”

Mercutio scurries to the back, apparently happy to finally be a part of the act. A moment later he returns carrying in his mouth a long, slender item that appears to be vibrating. He puts it right in front of the camera for all to see.

“Oh my goodness! MERCUTIO!”

Lacie dives toward the chipper Corgi only for him to dodge her as she knocks over the camera. Moments later, one can hear a struggle accompanied by Lacie screaming, “Mercutio put Leonardo Dicaprio down! Mercutio!”

When it sounds like everything is in order, Lacie comes back in and puts the camera back in place. 

“Sorry, Mercutio just got a hold of my toothbrush,” she’s pliéing for a few more beats before that knowing smile creeps onto her face once more and she can’t help but add, “It’s a big toothbrush that has gotten me through many lonely nights.”

“Let’s do some arabesques, shall we?”

She leans forward, lifting her back leg.

“Well, I wanted a visual aid to talk about my boyfriend he’s always talking negative. You can’t do this. You can’t do that. You can’t slash my tires because you suspect I’ve been sleeping some hussy. I always put my hands on my hips like a sassy six-year-old and say yes I can.”

“There’s no man that’s going to treat you good except your daddy. That’s what I always say. Right Mercutio?”

Mercutio barks in the affirmative. Laci turns back to the camera.

“Did I tell you that my dad inspired me to do this class? I dedicated it to him. When I was a girl he would sneak me into the ballet. I remember seeing Romeo and Juliet and I said ‘Dad, do you think I can do that when I’m older?’ then he leaned in with a smile and said ‘Yes, you can.’”

Laci’s eyes start to glaze over, probably realizing she is dancing to an audience of two. Probably wondering if that even counts as a class.

“Of course, he’ll never get to see me perform.”

Her voice is starting to lower to a tone that’s unfamiliar. Some in the audience suspect they are entering the downer portion of the show. But none are laughing when she says her next words. They feel a little bad.

“He passed away not to long ago…” 

Her voice lifts a little bit with a dash of hope.

“So, I’m going to dedicate this class to him.”

Her eyes are fall to the screen looking for something.

“Now, we’re coming to the end, and you may be wanting to give up. But you’ve gotta push through to the end and --”. 

Her eyes finally seem to make contact with the viewer count and turn wide in joy.

“Oh, -- wow, one hundred and five viewers? That -- that’s amazing!”

Half of them are possibly there for a front seat to the shitshow, but Laci doesn’t seem to care. Suddenly, she has a second wind.

“Well, hi. If you’re just joining me, this is ballet class with Laci Evergreen and in a shocking twist, I’m your instructor Laci Evergreen and class is almost over but we’re going to finish this for my dad, right?”

The audience cannot help but enjoy the admiration in her voice. The hopefulness.

“Some of you may be wanting to quit now, but you have to find energy. When I’ve had a bad day or I’m dragging a little bit, you know what I do?”

She’s tenacious. She’s on a roll. Pumping her legs like there’s no tomorrow.

“I think like Peter Pan and use happy thoughts to give me energy.”

Then, her Vivacious Smile’s wicked cousin, the Knowing Smile, returns. She cannot resist herself as she adds:

“Also, cocaine and CRACK!”

She bursts into a fit of giggles because of course her jokes are the funniest things in the world.

“I’m just kidding.”

She sniffs oddly.

“Now, don’t forget to breathe!”

Nonetheless, the viewer count swells, many tuning in for the penultimate conclusion. For the poor saps that actually tuned in for the workout, she starts to cheer them on.

“OK, five minutes left. We’re in the home stretch. All we have to do is --”

There’s a knock on the door again. She doesn’t give it the time of day. She’s too focused. She just yells at the door.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Mercutio has NO interest in your dog?”

But contrary to her belief, the person on the other end is not the big clusterfuck from down the road. The identity of the visitor is made loud and clear through the door.

“OPEN UP! IT’S THE COPS!” 

Laci’s eyes turn wide. She darts into attention.

“YOU HAVE A STOLEN ITEM IN THERE!”

Her head turns toward the camera and eyes turn wider. She whispers intensely to her dog.

“Mercutio! Get my stash from the bathroom!”

She grabs her purse and is dumping suspicious sacks of powder into it. Mercutio brings her more from the back. She grabs the camera, which is apparently attached to a laptop. 

“Um, no need to worry,” she says to the audience, taking them to the bedroom and giving them a view of her opening the back window. “The wifi should hold for a little while. I’m borrowing it from my downstairs neighbors.”

With Mercutio in her on her back, her purse on her shoulder, and the laptop in one hand, she climbs down an outside ladder. 

“We’re going to finish this. Just keep on doing those arabesques,” she says desperately into the camera, struggling her way down to the alleyway floor. 

She makes a run for it, but cops come around the corner. She tries to run the other way, but cops come from there as well and she’s trapped.

Nothing left to do, she just puts the laptop down in front of her, tears beginning to well. A distressed look on her face, she desperately tries to finish the class.

“Don’t worry. Don’t panic. This -- this is just a misunderstanding,” she says with a trembling voice. “Let’s finish with some curtsies. And one and two and --”

But a hand comes in and slams a silver cuff around her wrist, signaling the end.

“Come on Ms. Evergreen. We’re taking you downtown.”

“But the class isn’t over,” she screams desperately. “I have to finish my class!”

The cop just sighs, thinking the poor girl’s crazy. And he’s probably a little right. Still, he has to do his job and he starts taking her away from the camera and toward the squad car.

Laci’s voice raises with even more urgency.

“You don’t understand! I have to finish it! I have to finish it!”

Still, he pays her no mind as he shoves her into the police car and closes the door behind her.

The final moments of the video will likely be her sticking her head out the window and screaming like a raving maniac, “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I DEDICATED THIS TO MY FATHER! I’M DOING IT FOR MY FATHER!”

Such a snapshot would adequately encapsulate how the day has gone.

Oddly, however, those final words stop the cop in his tracks. We all have fathers after all, and he probably understands.

He glances across the alleyway at another cop who is behind the camera. There’s a slight shrug in the cop’s voice as he says, “Ah, let her do it.”

The cop goes around and lets out the car to her audience of 150.

Tears streaming down her face, she looks more of a wreck than ever before. Hair going every which way. Makeup running. An extra bruise she got on the way down the ladder that she probably is just now realizing. Tan looking even worse in the sun. Tutu looking like she got it from an even cheaper gag gift shop. But her physical state is the tip of the iceberg. Her mental state seems to be unraveling.

She appears to be processing her future so much that her signature smile has malfunctioned and can’t come back. Still, she goes through the final steps of her routine, as if taking a bow before a crowd.

“Curtsey to the left...”

That laptop is likely over two thousand dollars and she’s probably thinking about the time she’ll serve for grand larceny.

“Curtsey to the right…”

Not to mention, she’ll be facing charges on resisting arrest and drug possession.

“And remember...”

But finally, the star of the show returns as if reemerging for a curtain call. It’s written on her lips and said with her words. She ends with: 

“Keep smiling.”