A girl I was dating told me I’d never make it. That was all the fuel I needed.

She was a dance teacher, I loved dancing, and thought I felt the same way about her until I told her that I was going to apply for a job at Arthur Murray.

“You’ll never be any good as a dance teacher” was the response that changed my life.

I get the job, commit myself to training like a mad man, and give up hanging out with my friends for the job. I took the Viking approach - I landed on the job and burned the boats so I couldn’t escape. I needed to be so good that she ate those words.

A few years pass and I’m a successful teacher. I’m the top teacher in one of the top dance studios in the company. I’m on my way to work and it turns out she’s driving next to me.

She honks, waves, and we fail at our attempt at a 50 MPH conversation. So she says, “I’ll follow you.”

I’m thinking “could this be happening?”

We chat in the parking lot outside of the Arthur Murray I had told her about, and she has no idea. I’m dressed like I’m going to sell women’s shoes, or insurance. It’s almost time for work to start, and at this point I haven’t made any mention of dancing.

ME: “I should probably head into work.”

HER: “Oh cool. I’d love to see where you work.”

ME: (thinking “YES!”) “Oh, okay… if you want.”

She follows me inside, and this is when it gets too perfect.

I’m walking ahead of her and I can hear her footsteps slowing down behind me. I continue walking, turn back and say

“Are you coming?”

I head straight over to the front desk. My back is to her and I’ve got the grin of someone who has just successfully pulled off a million dollar horse racing bet. I’m looking at them, in all of their glory.

I turn to face her, and behind me are three awards I have just recently won, but were just put up on display.

The one in the center reads, “TOP TEACHER”

ME: (the dagger) “Yeah, so this is where I work, how about you, what are you doing these days?”

HER: (shrinking but trying to stay cool) “This and that, still dancing. I was thinking of taking some more Lindy hop and swing classes. Do you have anyone here that can teach that?”

Her final attempt to turn the tables was quickly halted before I could answer. My co-worker walked by and assumed she was a walk-in customer inquiring about lessons.

MONIQUE: (sarcastic) “Oh, you’re talking to the wrong person, he’s only the Swing King around here.”

There’s an awkward pause. Her power is gone.

ME: “Well, I’ve got to get to work. It was great seeing you.”

That was the first, and only, time that we’ve crossed paths since I started my career with Arthur Murray. It was closure on a legendary level.

Image credit: Lindy Hop

For a more detailed account of this absolutely true story: Chris Lynam's answer to Have you overcome a desire for revenge?