The day I auditioned a new instructor (and forgot my lines)

Xavier's plank lasted four minutes. FOUR. I timed it from my spot on the coral mat, watching this new instructor hold perfect form while Mom nodded approvingly behind him.

I'd been conducting informal evaluations of studio instructors for months now, but this was different. Mom had that 'potential hire' energy—the kind where she actually demonstrates moves instead of just pointing. Xavier was clearly here for the full Lucky assessment.

Time to show him how we do things at Hell's Kitchen Pilates.

I positioned myself strategically during his teaching demo, offering my signature move: the supportive shoulder lean. Most instructors crack immediately. Not Xavier. He kept explaining proper breathing technique while I draped myself across his back like a furry weighted blanket.

"Does he always provide hands-on assistance?" Xavier asked, still holding his position.

Mom laughed. "Lucky takes his co-instructor duties very seriously."

The real test came when Xavier attempted a single-leg stretch. I offered my traditional critique—gentle paw placement on his extended leg—but he just smiled and kept going. Even incorporated me into his explanation about maintaining stability under unexpected conditions.

Impressive. Most candidates fold by now.

By the end of his session, Xavier was scratching behind my ears while discussing class schedules with Mom. I may have gotten distracted by the attention and forgotten to perform my usual dismount demonstration.

"So," Xavier said, looking directly at me, "do I pass the interview?"

I'm still deciding. His plank form is solid, but I need to see how he handles the advanced curriculum. Tomorrow's foam rolling session will be the real test.