OCTOBER 1981
 

VICTORIA LEAVES ME HANGING
 

There is an old saying... "Experience is a comb life throws you after you have lost your hair."  By the time I was finished with the 1981 Halloween Party from Hell, I was completely bald.

The arrival of October put me in a very bad mood.  With regret I observed the two year anniversary of Doorstep Night.  Allowing Victoria through my door that night had turned into my worst mistake ever.  I had spent all of 1980 and 1981 waiting on the sidelines while Victoria vacillated between me and Michael.  During this time Victoria had kept me around as her fall-back boyfriend in case her ex-husband Michael rejected her overtures to reunite. 

Victoria and I had spent 1981 slowly drifting apart when Victoria's beloved therapist Charlotte passed away in the summer.  With Charlotte deceased, I was suddenly important again.  I was willing to accept the responsibility, but wondered if it was a hopeless task.  When things were going good with Michael, I did not exist.  However, with every setback, Victoria wasted no time coming to me for solace.  Invariably she would drop hints that maybe I was the guy for her after all.  Appalled at the mere suggestion, I would shake my head and gently remind her we had been through this before. 

Then I would swiftly change her focus back to Michael and gently nudge Victoria back in his direction.  Afterwards I would be full of despair because I knew the slightest wrong move on my part could unravel everything.  In the past even the slightest hint I was considering leaving Victoria had thrown her totally off kilter.  I know this is a strange thing to say, but as long as Victoria believed she had me as her backup option, she found the courage to continue the fragile peace process with her skeptical ex-husband.  For this reason alone, I stuck to my guns on remaining faithful.  But that did not mean I was happy about this endless wait.

As things stood here in October, Victoria had made up her mind to reconnect with her former husband Michael.  However she was facing a monumental task.  Persuading Michael to forgive her had proven very difficult.   Knowing full well those scars and hurt feelings presented a formidable obstacle, Victoria's courage was very fragile, especially since progress was maddeningly slow. 

When would my Limbo Captivity end??  Due to my status at the dance studio, I knew twenty women I could ask out.  However, but my hands were tied till Victoria made her decision.  The crazy thing is that my celibacy was completely voluntary.  I could have walked away from Victoria anytime I wanted, but the success of her Reconciliation meant more to me than my longing for a real girlfriend.  Although I had my doubts whether Victoria could regain Michael trust or not, for the most part I believed a reunion with Michael was in the cards.  But when??  Fearful of upsetting the applecart, so far I managed to avoid temptation.  However I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.  Right now my loneliness was killing me.  There was only minimal progress on Victoria's Reunion Tour and the whole thing could blow up at any moment.  Victoria was trying to rebuild trust with Michael, but the damage was so great there were inevitable ups and downs.  I imagine both of them were terrified of getting hurt again, so understandably they were taking things slow.  Or maybe I should say 'snail's pace'.  At the rate they were going, I might be too old to reproduce by the time they got it right.

Since I had absolutely nothing better to do, I decided to concentrate on preparing for my fourth annual Halloween Party.  I stayed busy and tried to forget about my problems.  Victoria had promised me to help me with the Halloween Party.  However, to my surprise, as the date of the party approached, Victoria was no longer sure she would participate.  Considering Victoria had been the heart and soul of the previous three parties, this took me off guard.  But maybe her sudden reluctance was a good sign.  Was this the moment I had been waiting for?  Was Limbo Captivity about to end?  The thought of finally regaining my freedom was so delicious I could barely contain myself.  Three days before the party, the phone rang.  It was Victoria.

"Rick, please don't be upset with me, but I won't be at the party this year."

I gasped.  This was a good omen, quite possibly the light at the end of the tunnel guiding me to freedom.  For Victoria to miss this party surely meant the time of our long-awaited parting was growing short.  I had mixed feelings.  After all, my past three years had been wrapped around this woman.  There had been good times, but more often there was the neverending drama.  Despite some twinges of unexpected sadness, I was okay with Victoria's decision to skip the party.  This party could very well serve as my declaration of Freedom.  But first I had to pretend that I was going to miss her.  Victoria always needed to be sure I would be there to catch her if Michael changed his mind about getting back together.

"I know you love Halloween as much as I do.  If it is Michael you are worried about, bring him with you to the party, I won't mind. [total fib]"

"No way.  There are too many hard feelings for that to work and you know it.  I really want to be at this party, but I think all the progress I have made with Michael would be lost forever.  Too many times in the past I have chosen the studio and you over Michael and I can't take any more chances.  I hope you understand."

Holy Smokes!  At first I gulped at the thought of supervising this big party by myself.  But then I steeled myself.  Oh well, no matter.  I shrugged and told myself I could handle it on my own.  Even better, maybe I could have some fun for a change. 

"Yes, Victoria, of course I understand, but it will be strange running the party on my own.  After all, you were instrumental in organizing our first three Halloween parties."

"You're right, the Halloween Party is my baby.  It breaks my heart to skip this one, but Michael would go ballistic if I didn't stay with him.  I can't risk antagonizing him at this stage.  He wants to go to some boring party with his hospital friends and I said I would go.  Oh boy, lots of doctors with gruesome fake blood smeared on their scrubs.  How imaginative."

I smiled hopefully.  Does this mean I have my freedom back?  I immediately thought of Bob Job.  He had guaranteed his Strange Brew would liven things up, but so far I had said no because Victoria said it was a bad idea.  However, now that I could do things my own way, I might just give him a call.  At that exact moment, Victoria read my mind.

"By the way, Richard, I am counting on you to behave.  Don't you dare let Bob get everyone drunk.  And I expect you to honor our understanding.  Don't you dare touch another woman during this delicate time!  I cannot bear the stress of dealing with any more problems than I have already.  Do I have your word?"

Damn her!  I hesitated.  Do I break free or do I reassure her?  Crossing my fingers for King's X, I replied, "Don't worry, Victoria, I will be on my best behavior."

Like hell I would.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.'

OCTOBER 1981
 

HIRING THE ENTERTAINMENT
 

Astrologically, October is supposed to be my time of year.  As a Scorpio, I am supposed to be fascinated with the Occult and the Hidden Side of things.  That is definitely true.  In particular I love Halloween.  While most people prefer Christmas, I prefer Halloween.  I get a big kick out of the costumes, the monsters and the legends.  As a result, making the SSQQ Halloween Party special has always been a heart-felt labor of love. 

Now that Victoria had removed her shackles, I had free rein to do things my way.  I asked myself what I could do to make this year's party amazing.  In a flash I had the perfect solution... I should hire Glen's sexy jazz dancers to perform at my party!

Glen Hunsucker was important to me in two ways.  To begin with, he had been my dance teacher for the past three years.  In addition, he was my landlord.  Without any warning, two years ago my former boss Lance Stevens had thrown me out of his dance studio.  I had two weeks to find a new place for 500 dance students.  Talk about a jam!  By coincidence (there's that word again) Glen had just moved into his new (and quite expensive) studio.  His new studio had three large dance rooms, but I noticed so far he only used one of them at night.  Glen had told me he hoped to expand gradually, but I had a better idea.

"Glen, how about you let me move my Country-Western program into your studio and let me have those two rooms that go empty every night?  My rent will solve your financial problems."

As it turned out, I was the answer to his prayer at the same time he was the answer to my prayer.  With his rent eating him alive, Glen welcomed the merger.  I was saved! 

Glen lived for his jazz dance company.  In addition to being a gifted dancer in his own right, Glen took great pride in training his youthful dance company comprised of high school seniors and college students.  Glen was a marvelous choreographer whose talented dancers reflected his creativity.  My only regret was not seeing Glen himself dance in his shows.  Glen preferred not to perform in his shows for fear he would dominate his protégés.  Although he was right, I selfishly wished Glen would change his mind.  Glen was by far the best male dancer I ever saw. 

Ever since I moved to Dance Arts a year ago, at least one night a week I would hang around after my classes ended to watch the dancers rehearse for their next show.  There were some exceptionally attractive women in Glen's dance company.  I loved to adore them from afar.  I was 30 at the time.  Due to the ten-year difference in our ages, they were too young for me to consider dating.  However, they were definitely old enough for me to appreciate.  In addition to ogling Glen's lovely young ladies during rehearsal, I had been to several of their performances.  The dancing of these well-curved nymphets knocked my socks off. 

These girls were so sexy I often wished I could treat my C&W students to a show.  Indeed, Glen's jazz dancers were totally amazing, but I was the only one who knew this.  Since their performances were held at gay bars, it was impractical to invite my students to see the company perform.  Nor had they seen them practice at Dance Arts.  To begin with, Glen's rehearsals took place after my classes finished at 9 pm.  In addition, Glen closed the door to Room One to ensure privacy.

In awe of their talent, I wanted my students to see how electric Glen's dance company was.  Why not hire them to perform at the Halloween Party?  However, Victoria said no.  Despite her undying love for Glen, Victoria advised against bringing the dance company to a studio party.  Victoria thought Glen's choreography was too suggestive and the costumes too skimpy.  Victoria had a point.  Glen was from the Vegas school when it came to performing.  Glen believed in making it flashy and enticing.  The best way to describe his dance performances was 'hot hot hot'.  And that was an understatement.  Glen believed in revealing costumes and highly suggestive routines.  He explained many of his dancers hoped to make a living as professionals dancers.  If so, it was in their best interest to get used to provocative dancing in skimpy skin-tight outfits.  Start them young, the sooner they could shed their inhibitions. 

Despite Victoria's misgivings, I knew those dancers would be a sensation at my party.  Glen had started his dance company about the same time as I moved in.  Since the company was new, they had no reputation.  Over the past year, Glen had complained to me about his trouble finding enough bookings to keep the dancers busy.  If too much time elapsed between acts, their focus would dwindle.  His bellyaching is what gave me the idea to ask Glen to let his company to perform at my Halloween Party.  However, first I had to get Glen's permission to even hold this year's party.  As expected, a huge frown crossed his face when I brought up the subject.

"Another Halloween Party?  Rick Archer, are you out of your mind?  Have you forgotten what happened last year?"

I instantly turned pale white.  Glen was referring to the Dance Wax episode, one of the worst mistakes of my life.  It was October 1980.  I had just moved in with my C&W program and the adjustment period had been a bit rocky.  Having a studio full of young female dancers wearing form-fitting jazz tights had quite an effect on the grown men in my Western classes.  For a while there, the men had acted like this was their first visit to a nudist colony.  After Glen complained, I had to remind the guys to knock it off.  Once the men learned to keep a discrete distance and not pant quite so openly when the girls walked by, the awkwardness dissipated.  Everyone got used to everyone and we were in the process of becoming one big happy family.  Unfortunately, holding dance parties had never been discussed before.  To my dismay, when I asked Glen if I could hold a Halloween Party, he was very skeptical.  After much persuasion, Glen finally said okay, but only if I agreed to his conditions.  

"You will have to pay extra rent and you will need to bring in your own sound equipment.  You will make sure the studio is clean afterwards and that all the decorations come down the next day.  Otherwise this will be your last party."

On the night of the 1980 Halloween Party, a visitor begged me to let him use some dance wax he had brought along.  This was a new request.  I knew absolutely nothing about dance wax.  I had never heard of it before or how it was supposed to be used.  Back when I worked at Stevens of Hollywood, whenever my group went dancing, we would leave the studio and go to some club.   As a result, I knew nothing about how to care for a dance floor.

I looked at the man and decided the idea of dance wax didn't sound dangerous.  This seemed like an innocent request, so I said sure, go ahead and use it.  Then I walked away to attend to my next Halloween Party chore.  To make his girlfriend happy, the man sprinkled the entire contents from two cans across the floor.  Only one problem.  This guy did not know anything about dance wax!!  We instantly discovered this dance wax was murder.  The wax coated the entire floor with a surface so slick we could have played ice hockey in there.  What a nightmare!!  Unable to dance without fear of falling down, everyone complained.  Ordinarily a little dance wax is useful for sliding your feet in Western dancing, but this was ridiculous.  People were even having trouble standing up!  Soon my ears were burning.  You have no idea how many people chewed me out. 

Sick to my stomach, I got out a broom and swept the stuff up.  It did no good. The damn stuff was glued to the floor.  With no idea what the antidote was, the dance wax effectively killed my party an hour early.  I watched helplessly as my guests shrugged their shoulders and took off.  I was fit to be tied.  After everyone left, I got a mop and worked over the entire floor.  It did not do a bit of good.  I did not have a clue how to get this wax off the floor.  After two hours of futility, I was exhausted.  Well past midnight, I decided I had no choice but give up and go home. 

A few hours later I was awakened by a phone call.  It was Glen calling on a Sunday morning.  The moment I answered, he started screaming at me about the dance wax!!  Glen was furious that I had ruined his floor.   His jazz dancers were there for rehearsal, but they were completely unable to dance.  Jazz dancing requires quick stops and changes of direction.  Each time a dancer would try to plant her foot, her foot would keep going.  With absolutely no traction, the dancers were afraid of hurting themselves, much less being able to dance.  My mistake had caused a fiasco!

Glen's immediate solution was to move his rehearsal to the backroom where I held my classes.  Although the room was much too small, at least this floor had no wax in it.  On Monday morning, Glen hired a man to get the wax up professionally. The bill (which of course I had to pay) was over $500.  That bill really stung.  That was a lot of money for me in those early days of my career.

However, the clean-up money was nothing compared to the psychic pain.  I stayed in Glen's doghouse for an entire year over that incident.  He reminded me of my stupidity at least once a month.  And now that I was asking permission to hold another party, Glen was angry all over again.  For a good ten minutes Glen raked me over the coals.  He made me beg, crawl, and plead before he finally relented to let me use the studio again.  However he added that if I screwed again, I could begin looking for a new home.  I had meant to bring up the subject of hiring his dancers, but Glen was so grouchy I decided to take Victoria's advice and not say a word. 

Two small coincidences changed everything.  First Victoria said she was not coming to this year's party.  Second, I had a private dance lesson with Glen the following morning.  to my surprise, he complained again about the problem of finding bookings.  Hmm.  Funny Glen should bring that up at the exact moment Victoria was not around to issue her veto.  If I did not know better, I had just been given an omen!  Besides, I was not a kid anymore.  I had reached the age where my brain went from saying "I really shouldn't do that" to "what the hell, let's see what happens."

"Hey, Glen, I have an idea.  Why don't you let me hire your dance company to perform at this weekend's Halloween Party?"

To my surprise, Glen hesitated. 

"I wish you had asked sooner, Rick.  However, I like your idea.  I think I can make this work.  First I'll have to see who is free to appear on short notice.  Stick around after your classes tonight and I will ask my dancers who can free up their Saturday evening for a 15 minute performance.  Most of them are starving artists, so I imagine they will appreciate getting paid as a reward for all the practice they've put in.  Unfortunately, I have another engagement that night, so I won't be there myself.  Don't worry, they'll show up.  My dancers are pros.  You can count on them to put on a good show."

Later that night Glen tracked me down in the hallway to say six of his dancers had agreed to perform, one man and five women.  And yes, since I asked, they would perform two Jungle Fever numbers.  He said to look for them to arrive around 10:45 pm.  That's all he said, so I left it at that.  I was excited.  This would be my first chance to see these pretty girls dance the new routine in costume.  I fully expected the performance would bring down the house.  And so it did!  But not quite the way I expected it to.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.'

OCTOBER 1981
 

ONE STEP CLOSER TO DISASTER

In previous chapters, I offered a slew of reasons why I had every right to thoroughly dislike Bob Job.  To refresh your memory, here is what I said.

"Why do I like Bob Job?  I asked myself that question all the time.  Bob was smarter than me.  Bob was funnier than me.  Bob made more money than me.  Bob beat me at chess.  Bob was sarcastic and liked to give me a hard time.  Bob pointed out he had plenty of girlfriends while I was stuck with useless you-know-who.  Bob forced me to see two of the worst movies ever filmed, Travolta's fake sequel (Urban Cowboy) and Travolta's real sequel (Staying Alive).  Twice he got me more drunk than at any other time in my life.  Seriously, to this day I don't why I kept him around." 

In other words, Bob was the worst best friend of all time and he knew it.  Moreover, he knew he had let me down in the past.  So guess what he did to make amends?  Bob promised he would deliver the BEST HALLOWEEN PARTY OF ALL TIME!  And stupid me, I believed him.  Consequently, the moment Victoria opened the door with her absence, my next phone call went to Bob Job, the Mad Scientist. 

"Hey, Bob, do you remember saying you have a great idea on how to improve this year's Halloween party?"

Bob replied, "I am so glad you asked!  Back in college I was always in charge of mixing the brew for my frat parties.  You will be pleased.  I can mix a wicked punch!"

Just what I wanted to hear!  "Oh really?  Tell me more!"

"My strange brew will definitely liven things up.  You have obviously forgotten that I am a master chemist.  Thanks to my amazing ability to add the right ingredients in the correct ratio to the punch, I can assure you with complete confidence my skill will make this the best party you have ever thrown."

Bob was singing my song!  Caught up in his enthusiasm, I was convinced this was a great idea.  With little thought to the consequences, I gave him carte blanche to go about his mission.  And so my rash decision to put Bob in charge of the punch had just paved the way for the Halloween Party From Hell.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.'

OCTOBER 1981
 

BOYS WILL BE BOYS
 

Victoria's sudden withdrawal had opened the door for my unchecked impetuosity.  During my two years of Limbo Captivity, my dance studio had grown by leaps and bounds for a very curious reason.  How do I say this without being too offensive?  I was the kid in the candy store.  Left to my own devices, over the past two years I very well could have frittered my time away playing the field.  However, my Captivity kept me in check.  The absence of a functioning girlfriend had created vast amounts of free time which I used to grow my program with laser-beam focus.  So far 1981 had been my Brightest Day, the most successful year of my career.  Following this tidal wave of success, I wanted my Halloween Party to be the absolute grand triumph.  Who needs Victoria?  I would use this party to prove I could drive this car just fine without Victoria's help.  And so, lacking Victoria's wisdom to curb my ambition, I used my sudden freedom to match Bob's Wicked Wizard Punch with my Jungle Fever surprise.

Back when I was 8, the movie Hercules Unchained had made a big impression on me.  Hercules drinks from a magic spring and is hypnotized by a harem girl.  He loses his memory and becomes the weakling plaything of a wicked Queen.  Of course at the end of the movie Hercules remembers who he is.  Freed from the shackles of his mind, Hercules goes on a rampage and slays all the bad guys.

Due to my prolonged thirst, I was more than ready to go on a rampage of my very own.  Victoria's departure had opened the cage.  I was free to indulge my long-awaited desire to chase women.  Although I promised myself I had no intention of chasing women at the party, this was self-deception at its worst.  Deep down, I was dying to let loose.  Despite Victoria's invisible strings, I saw no reason why I couldn't at least scout for future girlfriends given the circumstances, maybe line up a few prospects for the much-anticipated Liberation Day sure to be just around the corner.

It's my party and I'll do what I want!  Rick Unchained!  Coming as a footloose and fancy free Sailor Boy, I planned to dance with abandon, flirt at every opportunity, do whatever I please.  At first I had been nervous, but now I tingled with excitement at running the party alone for the first time.  I wanted to prove to myself I could throw a successful Halloween Party without Victoria's help.  What was there to worry about?  Put up the decorations and get the music ready!  What else did I have to do?   Not much really.  Figuring the Halloween Party would pretty much run itself, I decided to concentrate on having fun.  As one can imagine, my frivolous attitude was dangerous.  I was far more interested in having a good time than I was in being a responsible studio owner who keeps a careful eye on the proceedings.  Which is another way of saying the party lacked adult supervision.

Oh, one more thing.  Without Victoria around, I was free to drink as much as I wanted. 

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.' 

OCTOBER 1981
 

THE PARTY BEGINS
 

Bob insisted he was taking his role as Brew Master very seriously.  I gave him a hard time and said he was exaggerating as usual.  However, it turned out Bob was not kidding.  Bob was really good at this.

Bob had found the perfect costume for the occasion.  Dressed as the Mad Wizard with cloak and conical Magician's hat, Bob certainly looked the part as he stirred his concoction.  Bob cleverly added dry ice to give his work the appearance of a mystical Wizard's Potion.  The resulting illusion was quite impressive.  The eerie smoke emanating from the Wizard's Cauldron added to the illusion of a magical, mystical Strange Brew.

Nor did it hurt that Carol, Bob's attractive date, served as his Magician's Assistant.  At the start of the party, everyone got in line so Carol could ladle up the brew with a big smile.  Carol stayed busy because there were plenty of people ready to give the punch a try.  As Carol filled each person's cup, with an evil wink she warned them to watch out, Bob was trying to poison the entire party.  Then she would cackle....  Bwha ha ha ha!

Carol's remark was very ironic.  No truer words had ever been spoken.  And so the ensuing bacchanalia beckoned.

Typically dance parties take their time to warm up.  Not tonight.  Bob's Strange Brew worked like a charm.  Thanks to the Wicked Wizard Punch, the party quickly burst into animation.  Throughout the night, Bob hovered over his Wizard's Cauldron making sure there was an ample supply for everyone.  Bob's concoction not only tasted delicious, it had our guests smiling from the get-go.  Bob was beaming from head to toe.  As well he should.  Bob was the star of the night!  Everyone was having such a blast, they wasted no time misbehaving.    We danced, we laughed, we carried on, we made complete fools of ourselves.  The costumes were amazing, the women were beautiful, one of the men came dressed as a hopeful sperm cell, the music was great, the dance floor was mobbed, the party was perfect. 

Gosh we were having fun!  We were young and bold with a night ahead that promised great adventure.

"Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end.  We'd sing and dance forever and a day..."
 

OCTOBER 1981

JIM FOGO

There was an interesting sub-plot to the party.  As I have said, we had a cast of characters at the studio that rivaled anyone the script writers of Cheers could come up with.  One of those characters was a lawyer named Jim Fogo.  He was a very unique guy.  Jim insisted we call him 'Fogo'.  He said no one had ever forgotten his name because he was the only 'Fogo' in the Universe.  Come to think of it, he was probably right about that. 

Fogo brought his camera along to the party.  As it turned out, this was a wonderful break for me.  Fogo's photographs would later allow me to chronicle the incredible events of the night.

Based on cursory observation, I concluded Fogo loved to chase women.  And he was good at it.  To begin with, Fogo was a consummate BSer.  I never met anyone quicker with a line than Fogo.  However, it was his skillful use of the camera that impressed me the most.  As Jim explained it, women love to get their pictures taken.  Even better, beautiful women in costumes find cameras IRRESISTIBLE.

Fogo used his camera to track the two most beautiful women at the party all night long.  One was Liz, the Gypsy in red.  The other was Cynthia, the Angel in white.  Wherever these two ladies went, Jim was right there taking their pictures. 

OCTOBER 1981

TEMPTATION

Prior to the party, I created a long preprogrammed tape of music which played on endless loop.  This was a good move because it freed me from DJ duty.  Untethered to the music, I was able to roam around and look for trouble.  Trust me, I had no difficulty finding it.  To begin with, I was first in line for Wizard Bob's Magic Punch.  In practically no time at all, I was toast.  By the time I made my second visit, I had lost all interest in being a respectable host.  All I wanted to do was indulge myself and have fun.  

The women at this party were so attractive.  Wherever I turned, there was another beauty to capture my heart.  At all times, my promise to Victoria was somewhere in the back of my mind.  However, I figured if I drank enough, I could overlook my vow to behave by the end of the evening. 

Seriously, what could Victoria do about it if I chose to indulge in guilty pleasure?  Leave me?  Oh gee, what a threat!  Nevertheless, I somehow managed to keep my hands to myself.  It was not easy, but I kept my distance during the early evening.  However, as the evening wore on, that distance grew shorter and shorter.  The distance grew especially short when an exceptionally beautiful woman named Liz asked me to dance. 

Maybe it was Bob's Magic Punch fueling my imagination, but Liz seemed to take a shine to me.  Be still my beating heart!   Liz was not just beautiful, she was brilliant.    She was head nurse of her unit at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the city.  When it came to Liz, I had definitely met my match.  Beauty, brains, sexy as all get-out.  I continued to dance with other women and circulate through the party, but my eyes returned to Liz all night long.  'Look but Don't Touch'?  Give me a break.  I had a sneaking suspicion my two years abstinence were about to come to an end tonight.  My virtue had never been in more peril.

For the first two hours, the Halloween Party was a spectacular success.  Truth be told, if things had ended at 11 pm, the 1981 Party would have gone down as our best Halloween Party ever.  Everything was perfect.  But then the Downfall began.

OCTOBER 1981

JUNGLE FEVER
 

At 10:45, a young man named Keith found me on the dance floor.  He and the five girls were here for the performance.  The time had come for my big surprise.  Aha!  I was about to satisfy my longtime desire to share Glen's fabulous dance company with my students.  Not would their performance thrill my crowd, it would help build the reputation of Glen's dance company.  I was dying to give something back to this man who had been so good to me.

In particular, I wanted to see Glen's latest dance number, the one he referred to as 'Jungle Fever'.  I had seen the dancers rehearse several times over the past month, but they always dressed in leotards, never in costume.  This was such an incredible number that I was dying to see it performed in costume.  As luck would have it, here was my big chance.  

Some people say what you don't know won't hurt you.  Nonsense.  Victoria's instincts told her two things that had never occurred to me in my life.  One, she believed some of our men were too immature to handle the allure of Glen's female dancers if they decided to turn it on.  Two, she was certain our women would be royally irritated if the female dancers came dressed in their highly revealing outfits.  But did she tell me this?  No.  Due to her silence, I had to discover these problems the hard way.  Incidentally, learning things the Hard Way is my specialty.  First the Dance Wax, now this.

Unfortunately, men don't always see things the same way women do.  I knew for a fact that my guys would go out of their minds with joy if I shared this vision of glory.  I would be the most popular guy in history for bringing these stunning women before their eyes.  Besides, I wanted to see the girls perform for my own selfish reason.  These women turned me on!  It's my party and I'll do what I want!!

After letting me know the girls were here, he handed me the music for the performance.  Then Keith asked for the key to Glen's office so the girls could change in there.  Rather than give him the key, I followed Keith to the office and let the girls in.  When they said they would be ready in five minutes, I raised an eyebrow.  What I did not realize is their outfits were under their clothes.  All they had to do was take their outer garments off.  To my surprise, they disrobed right in front of me.  I gasped.  Good grief, these girls wore the skimpiest outfits I had ever seen! 

Oh shit, now I understood what Victoria had objected to.  But it was too late now.  I went back out to announce to the crowd that I had a big surprise for them.  Fortunately, the girls had brought large white robes like one might wear to a hotel swimming pool.  Wearing their robes, Keith and the five women walked into the Big Room to perform for us.  The unsuspecting crowd of 125 parted to make room.

As he passed by, Keith said he would signal when to start the music.  The six dancers went to a corner on the far side of the room and dropped their robes.  The moment the guests realized Keith and the five ladies were almost completely naked, a collective gasp filled the room.  The moment I saw the startled reaction of the audience, I took a deep gulp.  I'm not sure why, but I suddenly had a very bad premonition about this.

Can you spell "D-E-B-A-U-C-H-E-R-Y"?  Right from the get-go, these girls danced with wild abandonment, giving frenzied merit to the Jungle Fever concept.  My eyes were wider than saucers.  I had no idea those girls had such amazing bodies!  And their jazz dancing was awesome.  My guests were treated to some truly spectacular dance entertainment  Halfway into the routine, the girls really turned it on.  This is when their jazz dancing veered into dangerous territory.  With every curve of their perfect bodies on display, we were treated to the most uninhibited display of raw erotic sensuality I had ever seen on a dance floor.  The dancing was not vulgar, but it was definitely lurid. 

The men could not believe how wild these girls were.  To begin with, the girls were so confident of their figures, they were not at all modest.  Their skimpy outfits left nothing to the imagination and the guys loved it.  The men were practically falling over each other to get a better view.  With great bodies and reckless dancing, the girls' effect on inebriated men was nothing short of lethal.  Shocked to see beautiful girls move in such sensual ways, the men were totally in lust.  Some guys were so aroused they shouted cat-calls and invited the girls to remove what little they had on.  I was stunned. 

Unfortunately the women in the audience had the exact opposite reaction.  They were not pleased to see the women perform.  From the moment the girls dropped their robes, the female guests shot me one disapproving glance after another.  If looks could kill!  

Swept up in the performance, I really didn't care what the women thought.  I was far too mesmerized by the skill of each dancer.  They were poetry in motion.  Although the women were in shock at the tantalizing outfits, I had never seen more grateful men in my life.  There were no chairs, so some people stood against the wall while others sat on the floor.  The men quickly pushed the women to the back of the pack so they could get front row views.  These dancing girls were unbelievably attractive!

The six dancers put on quite a show, maybe even too good.  Their dancing was vivid, suggestive, and arousing.   The girls shimmied their chests, shook their hips, and gyrated with abandonment.   Glen had told me he meant for his Vegas-style dancing to be sexy and provocative.  Judging from the male reactions, Glen succeeded.  The men were panting with desire.  This was the night I discovered what happens when you mix Wicked Wizard Punch with Wicked Wanton Dancing Girls.  To my undying shame, the men grew even bolder as they screamed their heads off with wolf calls and howls.   

By the time the first number was over, the men were barely hanging onto any semblance of self-control.  Too many bouncing breasts.  Too many long legs.  Too many bare waists and inviting smiles.  These girls were so sexy that every guy in the place was turned on.  The disapproving women had moved to the back while the inebriated men made their way to the cheering section in front.  They sat on the floor right in front of the girls, some as close as five feet away.  The moment the men started howling like wolves, the situation became very uncomfortable.  Seeing the men scream their heads off with unabashed lust, I wondered how I would ever regain control of the moment.  I also noticed how shocked the wives and dates were at the men's shameful titty-bar behavior.  Filled with panic, I got up to turn on the lights.  However, the girls beat me to the punch.  They were supposed to dance a second number, but instead Connie, the leader, ordered the other four girls to cut their performance short and follow her. 

"Forget the goddamn robes!" Connie screamed.  "Head for the door!  Run, damn it!"

To everyone's surprise, right in the middle of wild, raucous applause, the five women sprinted across the room to safety.  Keith was taken aback, but he grabbed the white robes and followed right behind.  These girls weren't stupid.  Based on our reaction to the Jungle Fever number, I think they were frightened by their overwhelming effect on drunken men.  In addition, I think the girls felt trapped.  Surrounded by a panting throng of men, their only exit was at the far end of the room.  With their backs to the wall, there would be no escape if things got out of hand.  Noticing the blatant lust of the mob, they decided to get the hell out of there while they still could. 

Connie was in her mid-20s, but the other girls were much younger.  One girl was a high school senior and the other three were college age.  Previously these young ladies had only performed on remote stages in gay bars where the men were not quite so vulnerable to their ample charms.  I hate to say it, but my drunken mob was a first for the younger ones.  I doubt these ladies had ever realized the full effect of their gorgeous bodies and dancing ability on the libido of drunken heterosexuals.  Several men were close enough to grab them if they chose to.  It must have been very intimidating.  Connie was smart.  By telling to the girls to run, they were gone before their admirers could express their appreciation by grabbing them. 

Once out of the room, Connie told the four girls to go straight to the cars.  She and Keith stayed behind to collect the clothes, then they left too.  But not before Connie chewed me out big time.  "What the fuck did you get us into!!  Glen is going to be really pissed!"

First the Dance Wax, now this.  I was in serious trouble. 

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.' 

OCTOBER 1981

ANIMAL HOUSE

Toga! Toga!  Right before my disbelieving eyes, SSQQ turned into Animal House.  With their inhibitions shattered behind Wicked Wizard's Punch and Wicked Jungle Fever, the men were barely under control.  In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would see men behave like frat-party gropers at my studio.  The painful memory of hearing men wail in heat at the writhing, serpentine movements of the women was unbearable. 

Poof!  Thank goodness the dancers disappeared before anyone could grab them.  And don't think for a moment the men didn't want to.  The moment the dancing girls left the room, chaos ensued.  The men were so overwhelmed with lust, they did not know what to do with themselves.  For a while they just sat there in stupefied wonder praying the women would return and grant them an encore.  However, once they accepted the dancing girls were not coming back, the men were so worked up they raced to the Punch Room for another round of drinking.

Aroused and twitching from an excess of libido, there was a sudden outbreak of the kind of grabbing and groping one might expect at a Frat Party gone wild.  The men began pawing their dates and wives with mixed results.  A few women were drunk enough to respond in kind, but the majority were offended.  For that matter, some men grabbed women who weren't necessarily their dates or wives.  Any available female would do.  The ladies did not appreciate being fondled.  Several men got slapped while others were strongly chastised. 

There were a lot of angry women in the room.  They were appalled to see the men behave like blithering idiots.  Furious at being pawed and frisked, the women were looking for someone to blame.  Take a guess who they took their wrath out on.  One woman after another chewed me out for inviting 'pornographic dancers' to appear.  I hate to admit it, but the women had every right to be angry.  As they pointed out, if I was going to bring naked women into the party, I should have at least warned them in advance.  I tried to explain I did not know the girls would be naked, but no one believed me.  Another reason for the intense anger was the potency of Bob's punch which had inspired such lewd behavior.  The women did appreciate seeing the punch and erotic dancing turn their men into rabid sex fiends. 

It was not a pretty scene.   I have to admit watching the men make fools of themselves disturbed me as well.  The men were hootin' and hollerin' like madmen.  The anguished sexual frenzy written on their faces was completely inappropriate.  And it was my fault. 

With the men hopelessly out of control, many women decided to put an end to this humiliation.  They grabbed their husbands and dates by the hair and hauled them out of the building.  The women were determined to get their man out of there before he made some mistake he would come to regret.   Boy, was I in the doghouse!  As each woman passed me on the way out, they made sure to voice their displeasure with a dirty look or nasty comment.  The desertion rate was phenomenal.  In the blink of an eye, 80% of the guests cleared out. 

We had started with a crowd around 125.  Now we were down to 30 or so remaining guests.  I was crushed to discover my Jungle Fever idea had been a huge mistake.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but inviting the dancers had really backfired.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.' 

OCTOBER 1981

THE GROUP PHOTOGRAPH

Jim Fogo had been busy photographing the Jungle Fever performance.  Now he wanted to take a group photograph.  Noting how our guests were leaving in droves, Jim was so alarmed he suggested we do a group photograph pronto before anyone else could escape. 

Jim was right, so I told him I would round up the survivors and bring them into the Big Room.  We took the Group Photo around 11:30 pm.  Due to the mass exodus, the resulting group photograph had only 21 people in it. 

Imagine doing some so stupid that 100 guests would leave!  Thank goodness I was not sober or I would have really been kicking myself.  We were nearly three hours into the 9 pm party.  Meanwhile Sailor Boy was making a steady descent to oblivion.  I was angry because I had ruined my party.  Indeed, I had paid a stiff price for my indiscretion.  But you know what?  Right now I was too drunk to care.  Three sheets to the wind, I decided to save the worry till tomorrow. 

Besides, I had other things on my mind.  Shortly before the photograph was taken, Liz, the beautiful gypsy girl, had made a point to disengage from Fogo and move closer to me.  Fogo was supremely irritated.  He had been after Liz hot and heavy all night long, so her last-second desertion rubbed him the wrong way.

To my delight, I felt Liz place her hand on my back and squeeze.  A very good sign indeed!  The temptation to put my arm around the Gypsy's waist was so distracting that I was able to forget I had chased 100 guests out of the building with poor judgment.  So what?  I was absolutely certain Liz was the girl I had been waiting for.  She was most exciting woman I had met since, uh, well, Victoria.  Liz had one huge advantage over Victoria.  She was single. 

Feeling the warmth of her touch, I was certain that Limbo Captivity would end tonight.  At last.  I could hardly wait! 

OCTOBER 1981
 

BOB PAVES THE ROAD TO RUIN

Bob Job had been the undisputed star of the evening.  Using the power of his Wizard's Punch, Bob had set the party on fire.  Now as we took the Group Photo, I wondered where the Wicked Wizard had gotten to.  Five minutes ago Bob had told me he would be there for the picture, but now he was missing.  Bob's sudden disappearance should have raised an alarm bell.  However, with the stunning Elizabeth on my mind, I was far too wasted away in Magic Punch Land to be paying proper attention. 

So what happened to Bob?  As the remaining guests gathered for the group picture, Bob was out of sight in the adjoining Drink Room.  He was busy replenishing the Magic Brew, but planned to stop when it was time to join us for the Group Photo.  That is when his date Carol said not so fast.  Carol was livid!  Apparently Bob had shown way too much enthusiasm for the dance perfomance, so Carol decided to put her foot down.  And so poor Bob became another casualty of the massive female backlash. 

When Carol informed him it was time to go, Bob knew better than to protest.  "We can go, Carol, but give me five minutes to finish refreshing the Wizard's Cauldron."

Carol frowned mightily, but gave permission.  "Make it snappy!" she barked.  Carol did not help matters.  Her fury made her impatient.  Bob would later admit he had been a little too candid in his appreciation for the sexy Dancing Girls.  Bob claimed his only sin had been clapping too loudly, but added he may have whistled once or twice. 

My guess is Bob had gone further than he was willing to admit.  The upshot is that Carol was angry, really angry.  "Hurry up, goddamnit!  It's time to go, Bob!"

Under intense pressure to get this done as fast as possible, Bobby Wizard made a catastrophic error.  Staring at his Wizard's Cauldron, Bob had a problem.  He still had two bottles of Ever Clear left, one and a half more than he needed.  Hmm.  What should he do with the excess?

In his haste to leave, Bob decided he didn't have time to bag everything up and take it home.  Looking at the Ever Clear, Bob decided there wasn't that much left anyway, so he poured his remaining supply into the Cauldron.  Then he added enough punch to fill the Cauldron to the brim.  A few quick stirs and he was done.  Carol grabbed his ear and dragged him to the car.

Bob had left the party without bothering to warn anyone the Punch was stronger than usual. 

After the Group Photo was over, the 21 remaining guests made a stampede to the Drink Room.  Bob was nowhere to be seen, but we were delighted to see the Wizard had left a present for us.  There it was, the Smoking Cauldron full of a new batch of delicious punch.  Yum! 

This was no longer ordinary punch.  This was Knock-Out Punch.  We never had a chance.  Maybe Bob was a little drunk himself and not thinking clearly, but the punch he left behind was a killer.  Bob's unwise decision had placed the remaining guests on the Eve of Destruction. 

OCTOBER 1981
BACCHANALIA

The sexy jazz performance had totally altered the rhythm of the party.  I had been given a first-hand lesson in how Men's Clubs stay in business.  For example, I learned that watching naked women dance makes men thirsty.  Sure enough, immediately after the Group Photo, the thirsty men wolfed down a quick round of Bob's Wicked Wizard Punch, then helped themselves to more.  Not to be outdone, the few remaining women did their fair share of drinking too.  I had never seen so much drinking at an SSQQ party before. 

The Smoking Cauldron called to us!  "Drink me!  You know you want me!  Drink me!"

And drink we did.  Woowee!  Boy, does that punch taste good!  Let's have some more!  Like fools we kept going back for more.  Unaware that Bob had made his Wicked Wizard Punch twice as deadly, we drank as if there were no consequences.  

Talk about Sucker Punch!  Totally blind to Bob's Trojan Horse, we had no idea.  In no time at all there was not one remotely sober person left in the building.  That included me.  I was way too blitzed to pay much attention to much of anything besides Liz.  I was so drunk I was barely holding on to consciousness.  Completely out of control, I made a serious mistake. Typically the party is still going strong at Midnight. That is when I announce "Last Song!"

At this point the remaining guests are kind enough to stick around and help me clean up.  With everyone pitching in, the place is clean in about 30 minutes and we all go home.  Unfortunately, I was so Dizzy for Lizzie, I let the party continue.  As we shall see, I would pay dearly for this mistake. 

Despite my stupor, I could tell that something was wrong, very wrong.  For one thing, the dance floor was deserted.  After the Group Photo, the dancing had trouble starting up again.  It wasn't like we didn't try.  A half-dozenguests attempted to dance, but it was soon obvious that no one could stand up.  After a couple of songs, everyone gave up and left the dance floor.  It was very strange to see the dancing stop completely. 

Unable to dance, the men moved on to the next stage.  First the men took their lady partners back to the Drink Room for another round of punch.  Then they headed for the exit door.  Only one problem.  Most of them could barely walk.  Realizing they were too drunk to drive, they decided to stay a while longer.  6 or so people left while they still could, but the remaining 14 drifted to the long Hallway to find a couch and collapse.  Drunk out of their minds, the Left Behinds acted like stark raving maniacs.  Some laughed hysterically.  Others wandered up and down the hallway like aimless zombies.  

Flush with fever, the men had one thing on their mind... find a woman!  Fortunately for them, the few women who stuck around had something similar on their mind... find a man!  Once everyone paired off, they went back for more drink to stir their arousal.    After that, the men lured their partners onto the hallway couches.  The women were far too gone to put up much resistance.  Down to fourteen people, everyone found a chair or couch to fall down on.  There were five couples and four extra men. 

And where was I?  Oh, I don't want to tell you what happened next, but I don't have a choice.  Shortly after the Group Photo, Liz gave me an enticing hug, then told me me to wait for her while she used the restroom.  During the wait, I realized how cold it was, so I went to the far end of the Hallway to turn off the air conditioner.  On the way back, I found myself on the verge of collapse.  It had been a really long day.  I had been at the studio decorating since 10 am and had not sat down once.  With my gas tank on empty, I staggered to the nearest couch while I waited for Liz.  I had never been this drunk in my life and my head was spinning.  Closing my eyes for just a moment, I passed out. 

Consequently I was unable to witness the full extent of the damage caused by Bob's Midnight Massacre.  Instead I will pass on what a Survivor named Christina related to me days later.

"Somewhere around Midnight, the boys could not contain their desire any longer.  Too much booze, too many naked dancing girls.  The boys were so oversexed, they went behaved like an out-of-control Frat Party.  None of the people who were still at the studio had come with a partner.  There was a free-for-all as the guys grabbed for any available woman.  It was random.  The lucky ones found a willing partner, but several guys came up empty due to a girl shortage.  I was practically tackled by a guy named John I had met at the party.  He was cute, so I didn't mind at all.

With everyone drunk out of their minds, at first there was hollering and loud, hysterical laughter.  Everything was so funny they laughed their drunken butts off.  The place sounded like a loony bin!  Someone found the light switch and it got real dark.  In an instant everyone was making out.  Don't tell anyone, but John and I proceeded to kiss with wild abandon.  A couple times I came up for air and looked around.  On every couch there was a couple writhing and giggling in ecstasy.  There were roving hands aplenty.  To my knowledge no one's clothes came off, at least no one near me.  But I did hear a lot of moaning.  It was dark in there, so I don't know how far some people went.  Let's just say it was closest thing to a Roman Orgy I've ever seen."

According to Christina, the Orgy did not last long.  Christina said everyone started to pass out just like I had.  Too drunk and too exhausted to go home, one person after another started to doze off.  Christina explained that John, the man she hooked up with, passed out in the middle of their make-out session. 

"Good grief, John conked out in the middle of a kiss!  It was the weirdest thing.  His lips were on mine, but then there he was with his head back and his mouth wide open.  For a moment I thought John was dead!  I shook him a little bit, but it did no good.  Then he started to snore.  That was too weird for me so I got up to leave.  Two couches down I was grabbed by a man without a partner.  Now I began kissing him instead.  I have never in my life been so drunk as to pull a stunt like that.  I didn't even know the guy." 

"What happened then?"

"I was in the middle of kissing this new guy when he got way too frisky for me.  Geez, I didn't even know the guy and his hands were up my dress.  I was so disgusted I got up.  He reached for me, but he was too drunk to catch me. 

When I looked around, I saw bodies strewn everywhere!!  The hallway looked like the Jim Jones massacre.  No one was awake but me.  There were a dozen people snoring their heads off.  Incidentally, you were one of them.  I saw you passed out on one of the couches."

"Yeah, not my proudest moment.  Did you see what happened to Liz?"

"Was that the gypsy girl?" 

When I nodded, Christina said, "She left with that guy who took all the pictures."

That was exactly what I had been afraid of.  Story of my life.

"So, Christina, why were you the only conscious one?"

"I guess the ones who could leave had already left.  The first guy I kissed was still asleep and thankfully the second guy could not stand up, so I staggered out to my car on my own.  I have no recollection of driving home, but that's what I did.  Gee whiz, it's been three days and I still can't walk straight.  It was mass murder.  Bob poisoned every single one of us.  Maybe I'm a ghost."

Hmm.  Maybe I was a ghost too.  I had not felt the same since the Halloween Party from Hell had ended with Bob's Midnight Massacre.  I thanked Christina for offering closure to the story.

"Oh, you're welcome, Rick.  By the way, what time did you wake up?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it was around 4 am."

"Who cleaned up all the mess?  The place was covered in trash when I left."

I winced at the memory.  "I had to clean it up myself.  I considered it just punishment for making such a fool of myself that night."

Christina smiled sympathetically.  "You poor boy."

I smiled wanly and thanked her.  What Christina did not know was there had been a second chapter to my night.  I was about to face the single most terrifying experience of my life.