An incomparable dancer

Today is Saturday, it is normally a day off.

But I went to work today.

Having missed a day of laboratory work, due to the snowstorm,

I came in today to complete unfinished research.

But now, I:m relaxing,

drinking a Corona beer with fresh lime.

I am visiting my girlfriend,

drinking cold beer and updating my blog while she is making tempura.

As always, I took the subway to get back home from work.

As always, I took the subway to visit my girlfriend.

Riding on the New York subway is rarely a dull experience.

-----

As always, I was preparing to transfer trains at R------ station.

R------ was only one stop away,

when an unusual stranger sat down next to me on the train,

dressed like Michael Jackson.

I payed no attention.

A very common occurence in New York.

The stranger carried a bag in one hand,

a radio in the other.

He was wearing sneakers.

From the bag, he removed two shiny black leather dance shoes,

and removed his sneakers on the subway.

The dance shoes were now in place.

He stood up as we arrived at R------ station.

"I am the greatest dancer in New York," he announced to my fellow passengers,

as he prepared to disembark the train.

"And now it is time for my performance."

Who is this mysterious person?

I must see him dance!

Exiting into the commotion of R------ station,

my ears were greeted by an unexpected sound.

The music of Michael Jackson was already playing.

The mysterious dancer ascended the stairway leading from the train platform to the central area.

I followed.

A gigantic crowd was gathered in a circle.

The music of Michael Jackson's "Beat It" was already playing.

The sound of cheering and applause filled the air of the terminal.

Who were these people watching??

. . .

Inside the circle,

a young child was dancing.

Dressed as Michael Jackson, the child was amazingly skilled.

"He is greatest dancer I have ever seen!" exclaimed a young woman.

"Amazing!" exclaimed others.

The mysterious dancer from the subway car stood next to me,

looking on in amazement.

I, too, looked on in amazement.

This was not a child.

It was a man.

More than thirty years old.

Half a meter in height,

he danced, jumped, spinned and slid on the floor like Michael Jackson.

An incomparable dancer.

. . .

Hanging his head low,

the mysterious dancer from the subway reached into his bag,

placing a hat on his head.

"I will not dance today,

I have been defeated."

Even this myterious stranger stands in awe of the small dancer!

"I will return when I am again the greatest dancer,

now,

I can not compete."

I stood in amazement.

The radio clicked off and the crowd cheered.

The mysterious dancer was already gone.

The small dance master bowed in response to the cheers of the audience.

They filled his hat with money.

I left to catch my train.

-----

Sitting down in my girlfriend's apartment,

Michael Jackson's "Beat It"has just come on the radio.

Fate.

My tempura is ready.