Squeak Squeak, Tinkle Tinkle

We have a saying in dance class.  "The Squeaky Jew gets the grease."  What does that mean, exactly?  I'm so glad you asked.  When something's a little off, and no one's willing to kvetch, call on the SJG to get 'er done.  Take last night, for example.  After a brief discussion with the gals, I took it upon myself to corner our beloved teacher.  "Dougie, what's with the 5 o'clock start time on Sunday?"  "What about it?"  "It's not working for me.  What happened to 4:30?  We like 4:30 better." "You don't mind starting in the smaller studio?"  "No, of course not, now that the Pee-Pee Puppies are gone."  If you're wondering about the Pee-Pee Puppies, that's a good sign you're awake and over the Dreaded Time Change.  Welcome back.  Here's hoping I join you some day.  The Pee-Pee Puppies were adorable little canines that took over the smaller studio (pay attention:  they are two studios) right before us on Sunday for Puppy Training.  What puppies were doing in a dance studio is beyond the SJG's limited mental range. 

I suspect they were learning to leap across the floor and tinkle everywhere.  And even though the Pee-Pee Puppy trainers cleaned up (supposedly), it still smelled weird and funky by the time our class started -- much like Puppy Pee-Pee, a scent with which the SJG is all too familiar, thanks to a certain former puppy that shall remain nameless. (Dusty). However, the SJG squeaked and squeaked and squeaked some more, on behalf of the other dancer gals (shy, unassuming types) and refused on principle to dance in The Tinkle Zone.  The SJG battle cry: "I won't dance, don't ask me."  The puppies and their pee?  All goney.  During this unfortunate phase, which only went on for endless months, we waited like good little bitches till 5, for the other studio, and got home late for dinner, thereby annoying certain family members who wanted to eat earlier.  But isn't it sweet that they waited for us?  Stay with me, people.  This shaggy tale is almost over.  And now that I've kvetched the loudest again, we're back to 4:30 on Sundays, not 5, and I am one happy, squeaky SJG.  The End.  You may now return to your previously scheduled exhaustion.