“The best way out is always through.” I saw that on the wall of the third bathroom stall in the ladies at the “Teen Bean Diner”.  Along with “I hate Brad” and “geography sux”.

It was quite ironic that I saw this because, firstly, I never go to the third stall, and secondly, because it got me thinking about my current situation.

Let me explain, I was at an ultimate low in my Wine Glass Singing career. Yes, you heard me. My life’s profession is filling wine glasses with certain amounts of water so that when I rub my finger around the rim it creates different notes that I can make a tune out of. I call it a profession because I dropped out of school for this at only 16. Power failure in my education, you think?

I have also lost the majority of my friends due to the fact that they think I’m a “dim character” as Miss Trophs would put it.  They also say “there’s no point in having a wine glass with water and never wine. Why don’t you ever come out with us on weekends anymore?” Yet another power failure, in my social life. I had also lost my skill in Wine Glass singing after I stupidly took a five month holiday to Tanzania as soon I was released from the hell hold people call school. The power in my talent had completely gone off; what a power failure of a life. To add to all of that, there was the annual “Whose Wine Song is it Anyway” competition I had already registered for that was the next week.

My motivation to start practicing had abandoned me and I had a serious break out after my sudden realization that I had no life, as I wasted it on something that could be deemed as not a very bright occupation.

At that point, you could probably agree with me that, I needed any type of motivation to pull me out of this dark, muddy pit of circumstances I was in.  And so, when I saw this mind moving quote in the toilet cubicle, I stopped – mid-action – and gasped at my laziness.

That day, I went home and (wasting a few litres of water perfecting my water levels) I practiced for four hours nonstop. My finger began to feel rubbery after the first hour, but I trudged through my muddy pit I had dug myself into, one step at a time.

For the following week I hardly came out of my room except to eat or to fetch a mop to clean up the broken glass and spilt water that was caused from my anger of not getting the right tune. My ears were immune to almost every other sound that didn’t resemble a dolphin’s high pitched squeaking.  And finally, hours after hours and days after days, there was a little light that was flickering at the end of the metaphoric tunnel.

“Whose Wine Song is it Anyway” was the next day in T minus 23 hours. I had prepared the hardest song there was to learn by the glass: “The Harry Potter Theme Song”.

But accidently, in all the excitement of perfecting the song, I smashed my brand new glass set into a million pieces. How did I think I’d get through without experiencing another power failure in a certain aspect of my life?

In a frantic state, I emptied my Piggy Penny Jar to fortunately find that I was short only of R10. I huddled down the stairs to ask and receive the money from my mother, and lightning bolted down the street to get the cheapest, had to be lowest quality, glass set.

***

I was now waiting impatiently back stage with my fellow Wine singers. I was first up and my palms were perspiring. Looking out from the wings I couldn’t see much because of the extraordinarily bright spot light that was shining in the middle of the stage where my wine glass set was already set up. The nerves began to drop down into my stomach and I could only just make out my mother in the front row because of her luminescent yellow top that had a large wine glass on it; she made it herself.

“CONTESTANT NUMBER ONE PLEASE TAKE YOUR PLACE ON STAGE” boomed around the whole auditorium and back again.

I walked on to the risen platform, and stood behind my table of wine glasses, heart beating as fast as light travels. “You may proceed” said one of the judges from the panel of 6. I looked up, licked my fingers, took a deep breath and looked straight down again to start. This was it; I had to focus because if I didn’t win the R5000 prize I wouldn’t be able to get the best glass set ever, the “Winesongs 2000”. The microphone was placed right near my glasses. I was ready to win and after all, the best way out is always through. My finger was on the D# glass rim.

That was as far as I was able to go because as I placed my finger down, the power went off. My life officially revolves around power failures.