A Page Turner's Worst Nightmare

I've always been somewhat of a music aficionado. Last night I went to see the BYU Men's/Women's Chorus concert. At one point while I was watching the piano player, my attention diverted to the person sitting next to the piano player, whose sole purpose was to turn the pages for the piano player. I chuckled as my mind was caught up to a time when I was in his same position (cue the flashback music):

During one of the last concerts of my high school career, the top audition choir was performing and the choir director, Mr. Bentley, was accompanying them on the piano. He pointed to me (without any previous warning), signaling me to be his page turner. I was honored. This meant he recognized my skills ("Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills!"). I hoped everyone else recognized this recognition. I stepped up to the official page-turner's chair, strategically placed next to the piano bench. Mr. Bentley began playing, the choir began singing. I only had to glance at the last few measures of each page to see what would be played before I needed to turn the page. Then I could just enjoy the music and wait for the cue.

Then began a page-turner's worst nightmare. I turned one page only to reveal a page of music composed of nothing but the same note repeated for the entire page. There were no variations in pitch or rhythm on which to base my musical bearings! I tried to remain calm. I diligently moved my eyes from measure to measure, closely listening to the piano and following along. My eyes began to dry out (a major occupational hazard for page-turners). I forced my eyes open, knowing that blinking even once would cause me to lose my place. I only lasted so long (I hadn't done my forcing-dry-eyes-to-stay-open exercises that week). I had to blink. When my eyes came to, I couldn't for the life of me tell where they were in the music! The only thing I could do was make my best guess as to when to turn the page. I waited and waited. Surely this must be the part. They've been on this page forever! I reached my hand up to turn the page. "NO!" came the verbal hand-slap from Mr. Bentley. My hand recoiled. I waited some more. This MUST be the page turn. I reached. "NO!" I recoiled. I decided now to just wait and not make any more guesses. I figured the WORSE case scenario would be for the concert to stop on account of me not turning the page in time. That wouldn't be so bad. "NOW!" Mr. Bentley cued me. I turned the page. The concert didn't stop.

Thus began and ended my first and only experience as a page-turner.