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THE YEAR OF LIVING
DANGEROUSLY
CHAPTER EIGHT:
COLD WAR
Written by Rick
Archer
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Rick Archer's Note:
'Tis better to have
loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Previously I
have spoken of Karmic Relationships. If anyone ever fit that
description, that would be Jenny. I had never met
another woman like her (and never would again).
The time I spent with Jenny was precious.
I learned more
about how women "think" from Jenny than in any previous relationship.
Cursed by a lifelong fear that women did not
find me attractive due to the scars, Jenny put an end to that fear with an
exclamation point. As a result, I parted
from Jenny with my
confidence elevated, not destroyed.
A superb woman had fallen in love with me. I
considered that the highest compliment I had ever received.
Although the pain
of loss
was unbearable for a spell, it eventually passed.
Believe it or not, I actually agreed with Jenny's decision.
She explained her reasons for picking Randy over me so well
that I would have made the same decision in her shoes.
Yes, I felt regret, but I never felt bitter. In fact, I
felt better for the experience of knowing her. Jenny
was so amazing that when she broke up with me, I left
feeling better about myself. How often does that happen?
It is so
interesting that Jenny came first during my amazing Summer of
seven women.
In a manner similar to Eric, I felt like Jenny was sent to prepare me for the
challenges ahead. She bolstered my confidence so high
that I began to take chances approaching women who at first
glance were out of my league. To my surprise, each
woman responded favorably. However, I would have never
approached them if Jenny had not set me free. Which leads to my next thought.
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I have spoken of
the Epic Losing Streak as if it were a negative thing.
And, yes, it was. Jenny was not the first woman
I ever fell in love with. There had been others who were special in
their own right. Emily. Rachel. Katie.
Sarah. With each woman, something invariably
went wrong. So of course I despaired of ever finding
the companion I desired so greatly. The problem is
that we never know what lies ahead, so we grow impatient and
cynical.
However, with the gift of Hindsight, I can
see how the Epic Losing Streak worked in my favor. I
left St. John's a deeply disturbed young man. I left
Johns Hopkins even more disturbed. Colorado State was
the worst. I hit the Rock Bottom of all
Rock Bottoms. But CSU was also a turning point.
My abject
failure forced me to take the Dance Path that would eventually
heal me.
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Here is what is
curious about my Dance Path. Every reversal... and
there were many... seemed to carry a Silver Lining that
somehow elevated me one step closer to healing the wounds
caused by my troubled childhood. With each broken
heart during the Sumer of 1978, I somehow grew stronger, wiser, more
confident. Jenny was the perfect example. In a
spiritual sense, I viewed Jenny as a Mentor sent to teach me
what I needed to know in order to face the difficulties that
lie just around the corner. In the same way that
Vanessa once robbed me of all self-confidence, Jenny helped to restore it. And then she set me free so I
could learn my next lesson.
Jenny was a
woman for the ages. I owe her quite a debt.
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The Ritz.
Good luck or Bad luck? Very good question.
If I were a cat, I would say the Ritz cost me one of my nine
lives. But ultimately my collapse at the Ritz played a key
role in one of the luckiest breaks of my. We will get to
that story in our next chapter.
The main consequence of the
Ritz Debacle was the beginning of a Cold War. This rift led to a profound shift in the power dynamic between Stevens and
myself. Strange as it might seem, I had approximately 400 students
a week, Stevens had 100. Given that my students were
likely to follow me out the door were he to fire me, Stevens was
very reluctant to fire me without an adequate replacement lined.
Where oh where is Eric?
Believe it or not,
here in July we were on roughly equal terms. Call it 'Even
Steven'. Stevens was not happy about a lot of
things. Eric, the Ritz, plus a baffling mystery that he
had no answer for. I will get to that shortly. Things had been
chilly
before the Ritz, but they were frigid
in July. Why? My theory is that Stevens regretted
firing Eric every waking minute of the day. Eric had
been the guy Stevens dreamed of. So what if Eric made
a fool of himself? The smart move would be to give
Eric a chance to apologize for his rudeness. But, no,
Stevens lost his temper and pointed straight to the door. Now every time
Stevens saw Rick, the clumsiest dance teacher
on the planet, he hated himself even more for sending the
talented Eric packing. And he hated me too. Somewhere in the back of his mind this
had to be all my fault.
Lance Stevens never said another word
to me about the
Ritz. Considering his penchant for putting me down, it
is curious he said nothing. He never asked me to perform again
either.
And did I care? Heck, no! From this
point on, Stevens did not
want to have a thing to do with me. In his eyes, I was nothing but
a necessary evil. I had the same status one might accord a garbage
collector. Stevens' opinion of me was so low that he avoided me
like the plague. His snub did not bother me a bit.
In fact, he did me a favor. The stress from fighting to keep my dance job
had taken an unbelievable toll on my nerves. These past six months had
been intense and I was suffering from serious burnout. I was
completely worn out and there was no adrenaline left. Therefore
the absence of harassment was a welcome relief. Throughout July, I
showed up, did my job, and left immediately. The Cold War
allowed me to get my second wind.
It also would also lead to an inconceivable
mistake on Stevens' part.
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July 1978
the three
Grouchos
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Stevens of
Hollywood was a small studio. It consisted of four
people... Lance Stevens, his wife Cliann, his teacher/friend
Alicia, plus a certain unwanted peon. I had never met
a meaner, more hostile trio. I called them 'The Three Grouchos'.
With these malcontents aligned against me, there was never a time
when I felt welcome.
The combination of
Eric's demise and my abysmal performance at the Ritz had caused
Stevens to turn his back on me. Here in July things had become very frosty between us. Stevens
had a low opinion
of me from the moment he first me dance back in October.
The only reason he kept me around was the lack of anyone to
replace me. Do you remember why there were no other
teachers? Because every professional dance instructor
in Houston already knew there was little money to made
teaching line dancing and Freestyle. As hard as it is
to believe, I was practically the ONLY Disco teacher in
Houston when Saturday Night Fever made its
unexpected impact.
And why was Eric
so important? During my six-month Apprenticeship, Eric
was the only Disco instructor to walk through our doors.
Now that he was gone, Stevens despaired of finding anyone
else. Even more depressing, unless the next guy had
the same charisma as Eric, more than likely my 400 Disco
students would walk out the door if he fired me. His
opinion of my dancing was bad enough as it was, but it sank even lower after my pathetic Ritz performance.
Barely able to even look at me, unless there was a reason to talk business,
Stevens avoided me like the Black Plague. When he did speak to me, the
conversation was curt and hostile. Stevens was stuck with
me. And he wasn't happy about it.
Alicia agreed with
Stevens. Alicia was a
part-time instructor who taught private lessons to men who
lacked a female
partner. She had a special room more or less reserved for
her. Preferring to teach from 6-7 pm, she was at the
studio roughly 3 nights out of five. A pretty Latina in
her forties, Alicia despised me. Convinced that I was a phony
(which I was at first), she sniffed and turned up her nose whenever I came
near. I doubt seriously Alicia ever said a word to me, but
I got the message anyway from her sneer.
Cliann was not a
dance teacher. Cliann was her husband's dance partner.
I would see them practicing at 5 pm at least once a week.
Cliann also ran an exercise class at 6 pm three nights a week.
After her exercise class, Cliann would often stick around and
join Alicia over in the corner. The two of them would cast
hate stares at me while I taught on the main floor. Making no attempt to disguise her
contempt, her hostility was something of a mystery to me. Okay,
so I was a lousy dancer and barely adequate as a teacher.
But I was generating $10,000 a month in revenue! Shouldn't
that have earned me at least a smile? Apparently not.
Instead I was treated like the enemy. Her attitude made no sense. In the
eight months since my hire last October, I had never done a
suspicious thing. Curious why Cliann was so cold towards me,
I asked my friend Dorothy about it. She
said Cliann didn't trust
me. Huh. I wondered what Cliann had against me.
Like Alicia, not once did
Cliann ever speak to me. Seriously, not one conversation.
Every now and
then, if Stevens did not have a lesson at 7 pm, he would go
over to the women and join the hate conclave. This situation was
absolutely bizarre. I was making Lance and Cliann scads of
money, but they hated me. What was their
problem? Long-time Ballroom
regulars like Dorothy Piazzos and Pat Sawin told me I was the best thing that ever happened to
grumpy old Lance. My Disco
program had turned his gloomy studio into a beehive of activity. Nevertheless, despite the
money and energy generated by my program,
the Three Grouchos wanted me gone.
A major reason for
the Cold War was the growth of my program. The surge of
Saturday Night Fever popularity had not
crested. I was not even remotely skilled as a dance teacher,
but when it came to Disco, I was the best known.
Thanks to word of mouth, Disco energy
had driven the size of my July classes to dizzy new heights. July
became the month
it became obvious to everyone that my Disco program dwarfed Stevens' Ballroom program.
Stevens of Hollywood was now two studios
in one. It was absurd, but the dance teacher who
could not dance was significantly outperforming his
supremely talented boss. Does that mean I was better
than him? Of course not. Disco was hot, Ballroom
was not. If the man possessed an ounce
of business sense, he would have brushed it off. But that is not
how the mind of Lance Stevens worked. The damage to his ego explains much of
the hostility.
I might add that Cliann and Alicia
fueled his bitterness by reminding him that I lacked the talent to merit this kind of success.
The Three Grouches agreed that Disco dancing was the lowest form of dancing.
Therefore, there was no way that anyone interested in Disco
cared
about being any good. They just wanted to learn enough to
get out on the floor. As for my teaching ability, any
street dancer with a cute butt could do probably do just as well.
And the worst part was being forced to watch how little I knew about
teaching dance.
Earlier I spoke
of a mystery. Clearly I was successful. But what
was the reason? Chalking my success up
to dumb luck, it was an affront to their dignity to be associated with my
mediocrity. But was it really Luck?
Let's say I am right about my belief in Fate.
I doubt seriously that the Three Grouchos ever considered
that the Force of Fate might be the best explanation. Although my
success was due in part to an extraordinary amount of hard
work, I was the only person who noticed the freaky, fluky component to this Magic Carpet
Ride. I did not dare tell anyone for fear of ridicule,
but I secretly believed I was a frequent beneficiary of Divine
Intervention. At the same time, I understood their
problem. How was it possible, they
thought, for this incompetent rookie to outperform
highly-trained professionals like themselves?
Perhaps if they believed in magic, my success would have
been easier to tolerate. But that is not how they were
wired. In their opinion, you need talent to succeed in
this profession. Given that I had no talent, their
bewilderment turned into hostility.
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I knew full well
not to get a big head.
Rather than gloat, I was actually more worried about the
ramifications.
Dr. Fujimoto, my Colorado State nemesis, had taught me it was
dangerous to show up the
boss. But how was I supposed to heal this
galling affront to Stevens' pride?
Given what I knew about Stevens' immense ego, this strange
juxtaposition had to rankle him. One serious mistake and I
would be out the door just like Eric.
Every night an
army of Disco students walked in and acted like they owned
the place. No doubt the trickle of Ballroom students
felt dwarfed. The studio consisted of a Main
Ballroom and three back rooms for smaller classes. Since my classes were so
large, I taught on the Main Floor every night while
Stevens was relegated to the back. As far as the
Three Grouchos were concerned, the world had turned upside
down. Due to this affront to their dignity, the Grouchos
often discussed
what to do about me.
Before I came
along, Stevens made
most of his money from private lessons. He was
reasonably cordial when it was one to one, but he turned
into a serious jerk during his
evening group lessons in Ballroom and Whip. Stevens was so
critical that Beginners had to have a very tough skin to
benefit. As a result, his Ballroom program never grew.
There was always an hour here or an hour there when Stevens did
not have an evening group lesson. Left with nothing to
do, it was not unusual for me to look up and see Stevens
join the two women as they complained over in the corner.
Watching me teach
from a distance, the Grouchos would have their arms
crossed with giant frowns. Since they stared
straight at me, I knew full well they were discussing me. The two women did
most of the talking while Stevens nodded in agreement. These
bitchy conversations served to
ratchet up the tension. My instincts said that
Stevens preferred to keep me around because I would be hard to
replace. However, the two women were
determined to change his mind. It was times
like this when Fujimoto's butt-whipping
came in handy. Thanks to him, I learned how to play
the game. I never said a harsh word to Stevens.
Nor did I say a negative word about him to my students.
After all, the walls have ears.
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Alicia was
sassy, sexy, curvy, vivacious. She was a hot Latin mama
extraordinaire. Although Alicia was part-time,
she stayed very busy. I would see her three, maybe
four nights
a week. Stevens did a
thriving private lesson business. He taught couples to
dance plus ladies who came alone. Alicia, 40, served as
Stevens' counterpart. Stevens needed
Alicia to teach private lessons to men who lacked a female
partner. Stevens also counted on Alicia to
handle any overflow. If someone needed a private
lesson at 5 pm on a specific day and he was already
booked, Stevens would hand the lesson to Alicia and take a
cut via room fees. In addition to her private lessons,
Alicia taught occasional small Ballroom and Latin group
classes. She preferred to use a small room that doubled as the
Registration area. Since the area was
the perfect size for private lessons, one
tug on a curtain turned the space into 'Alicia's Room'.
Alicia was cold
towards me
from the moment we met. Alicia referred to me as the 'Pretender.' That always made
Stevens laugh. Alicia resented what she considered my undeserved
success. Like Stevens, she could see
how raw my dance skills were. Alicia was disgusted to
see how much my students liked my classes. To her
mind, I had no business being out there. She knew I was faking it most of the time and
did not bother to hide her contempt. She
complained openly to Stevens and Cliann how pathetic I was.
"How does the Pretender fool all those students
into thinking he is a legitimate dance instructor? Too bad those students never
took a class from a competent
dance instructor so they could see the difference.
Lance, you should fire him and teach the classes yourself."
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Stevens knew
better than to teach Disco. He had probably visited a
Disco at some point, but was so disgusted he never returned.
At age 60, he would be teaching people half his age.
Besides, he hated Disco music as much as I hated Ballroom
music. Nevertheless, Stevens appreciated that Alicia
was on his side. She never failed to crack up when
Stevens repeated his beloved put-down, "The Dance Teacher
who couldn't dance."
One night my friend Dorothy
Piazzos overheard their conversation.
Dorothy, 50, had an interesting role at the studio.
She was a long-time Ballroom
student and one of the few people Stevens liked. Due
to her tenure, Dorothy was able to float from his program to
my program with impunity. Stevens assumed her loyalty
belonged to him. Which it did, but not completely.
Dorothy took a shine to me, not romantic, but as a
well-wisher. Dorothy
liked me and wanted me to protect me, so she kept an eye out
for danger. It wasn't like Dorothy had to be sneaky. Alicia
was very outspoken, so I
doubt seriously she cared if I
learned about her contempt. Since I knew nothing about Latin or
Ballroom, Alicia could never imagine me as a potential
rival. Furthermore,
Like Stevens, she could have cared less about Disco.
Disco was beneath her. This actually worked in my
favor because we rarely crossed paths. This kept the
friction between us low enough that Alicia's dislike never
erupted into direct confrontation. She was content to
stick to dirty looks whenever our eyes met and cut me to
shreds behind my back.
Despite her
animosity, I
will always be in great debt to Alicia. One day in June
she unwittingly did me a huge service. Whenever Alicia taught a class in
her favorite room,
she would pull a curtain for semi-privacy and go to work. Alicia had a
standing 6 pm class on Monday. The class consisted of
three couples that absolutely adored her. I might add
they did some drinking in there. One night
there was so much raucous laughter coming from behind the
curtain that I asked Stevens what the heck was going on in
there.
Stevens rolled his eyes and said he rented the room to
Alicia so she could have her weekly sex orgy. Then he
added that Alicia
should thank him because his fee was a lot cheaper than what
she would pay for a motel room. Stevens
laughed at his own joke and walked away.
I had
just learned something valuable. Alicia was allowed
to rent a room for her own group classes! Hmm.
Very interesting.
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Cliann was a
beautiful woman. She was also stunningly
voluptuous. Put black hair and a perpetual frown
on Raquel Welch and Cliann was a dead ringer. Let me
add that Cliann had danger written all over her. Whoever said looks can kill
must have been thinking of
Cliann. In spite of my fear, I had a secret thing for
Cliann. With looks like hers, who could blame me?
Like her friend
Alicia, Cliann made no attempt to hide her scorn for me. Although Cliann
never spoke to me, her angry demeanor
intimidated me. In all the time I worked there, I
never quite figured out why Cliann viewed me as the enemy.
If forced to guess, I assume trust did not come easy to her. Given her apparent contempt, I had no choice but
to keep my
distance.
We were never introduced. Based on watching
her from afar, Cliann appeared to be in her late
40s, 10-12 years younger than Stevens. Imagine my surprise when Dorothy told me Cliann
was 38. I misunderstood. I thought Dorothy meant
38-24-36.
Dorothy rolled
her eyes. "No, stupid, I'm not talking about
her measurements. Cliann is only ten years older than
you!!" I was shocked. Good grief, my
girlfriend Jenny was also 38 but looked 30. I was
floored by the comparison. Two women the same age
appeared 20 years apart. I decided Cliann's perpetual frown made
her appear a full generation older than me.
Cliann had a
limited role at the studio. She did not teach social
dance classes. Nor did I ever see her handle the
money. Cliann occasionally came early at 5 to
practice dance routines with her husband for upcoming
performances. Then she stuck around to conduct her 6 pm exercise
class on the Main Floor. Afterwards she would
hang out with the other two Grouchos for
an exciting evening of Rick-bashing.
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Cliann was a
serious knockout. She was blessed with looks, dance
ability and that amazing figure. Peeking from behind
a door, I loved to watch her in
action during exercise class. Her skin tight black
leotard eliminated any need for imagination. With
those curves, good looks and long legs on full display, I
compared Cliann to a black panther... sleek, powerful,
cunning. But watch out for the claws.
With
all the things she had going for her, why was Cliann
always in a bad mood? Good lord, woman, count your
blessings and be happy! And why did she hate
me so much? Who knows, maybe I reminded
her of someone. All I know is that Cliann invariably frowned the moment she saw me.
She always wore black to match her jet black hair.
With her
mean expression and high heels to accentuate
her imposing 5' 8" height, Cliann came across as tough as
nails. Since I had no idea why she was angry all the
time, I assumed somewhere along the line Cliann had been
handed an
advanced degree in the
School of Hard Knocks.
Or perhaps it
was her husband's penchant for fooling around. I
suppose that would account for her murderous moods.
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Lance and Cliann
interacted in three ways. Sometimes when I arrived
early, I would see them practice together on the Main Floor
at 5:30 pm. They got along pretty well in this regard,
no obvious tension. Occasionally Cliann would stick
around after her exercise class and join Alicia to stare
hate daggers at me. If Stevens had nothing better to
do, he would join the hate cabal over in the corner.
Inevitably the bickering would start. What was it
about? I don't know. I was nowhere close enough
to overhear, but if forced to guess some of the anger
involved me. Alicia and Cliann would use the
opportunity to needle Stevens about replacing me with an
actual professional. Whenever they rocked the boat,
Stevens would argue back. He hated me just as much as
they did, but his hands were tied. Expecting my
students would follow me, Stevens feared he would gut the
studio if he got rid of me without a
good reason.
Other times it
was just Cliann and Lance in the corner. Without
Alicia to act as buffer, sometimes the volcano would erupt
without warning. They argued in public all the time.
They could care less that people stared in open-mouthed shock at the
degree of their vehemence. Since I had no clue as
to their personal life, the best I could do was observe and
speculate. They were divorced. Or maybe they were married. Or
maybe they were divorced, but lived together. Or
maybe they led separate lives and met at the dance studio
on occasion. Or maybe they had separate living
arrangements but continued to date. Who knows? I made it a point to mind my own
business.
If forced to guess, I think their
status changed from time to time depending on the results of
their latest
knock-down, drag-out fight. I cannot remember a time
when they smiled at each other. I concluded they were the least compatible human
beings I ever saw. And how do I know this? I had
a front row seat. They fought in public all the time,
shouting, sometimes even screaming. They hated each
other, but could not bear to be apart. Due to the
volatility of these public arguments, clearly there had to
be a reason for all that passion. I thought it is very
weird how they fought in public. Most people prefer to
keep their personal life private, but not these guys.
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To be honest, I
have no idea who or what started these fights. That
said, whenever Cliann was not around, the studio was quiet
with an absence of tension. Lance was still
grumpy, but since he avoided me these days, his constant bad
mood did not affect me. However, whenever Cliann was
at the studio, there was bound to be fireworks and drama. I would cringe
because their shouts
and harsh words reminded me of the nasty
fights between my parents back when I was nine years old. I was too far
away to hear what was said, but they
definitely had heated energy on each other. They were
inseparable at the studio, but never happy. The only
time I saw them get along was when they practiced for an
upcoming performance. Other than that, they were
always bickering in
plain sight about something. Unfortunately,
based on glances directed my way, I assumed I was the
frequent
topic of their latest argument.
However, maybe
it wasn't just me they argued about. There was another
possibility for the tension. I suspected Stevens'
reputation might be the source of discord. I often
wondered why Stevens constantly played the song Last Cheater's Waltz
in his private lessons.
She was going
to pieces when he walked in the door
She just had to see him, she can't wait no more
Tonight she'll be with him no matter the cost
As the band plays
the Last Cheater's Waltz
He tells her he loves her as the music plays on
He tells her loves her but someone's at home
The ball game's all over and she knows she has lost
As the band plays The Last Cheater's Waltz
It seemed to me
the
Last Cheater's Waltz
was a pretty morbid song for a dance lesson. However,
once I discovered Stevens made passes at his female
students, I began to catch on. Since women love to
dance, many of Stevens' students were women
who took private lessons during the day while their husbands
were at work.
Since the studio was usually deserted at this time, Stevens
had plenty of opportunity to take advantage of the unusual
situation. No doubt his proclivity for seducing the
ladies did not
sit well with Cliann.
Ruth was one of
my Disco students. One night at the Pistachio Club,
Ruth told me about the time Stevens
had made an explicit pass at her. Out running errands,
one afternoon it was
easier to come to the studio early than go home and
come back. Ruth sat in the waiting area and opened a
book. Stevens was the only other person in the studio.
Seeing Ruth sitting there alone, Stevens walked
over. Stevens had never met Ruth, but that
didn't stop him from suggesting they have sex. No warm-up chat, no introduction, no
flirting, no persuasion. Nor was the approach
sugar-coated. Stevens made his pitch in a vulgar way
that included the F word. Stevens told
Ruth he had a
spot in the storage room, a secret love nest of sorts.
Mind
you, Stevens was twice the young woman's age. Why
Stevens
expected Ruth would be interested in a quickie escapes me, but he always did have a high opinion of himself.
Shocked and
offended, Ruth awkwardly turned
him down. Stevens got huffy and replied, "What's your problem, lady? You
don't like dating older men?" Ruth did not reply.
Instead she got up and left the building. Ruth was
so upset she stopped
taking lessons.
Another woman,
Andrea, said she had taken private Ballroom lessons from Stevens
when she was a senior in high school. One day Stevens
invited her to perform with him at a major dance competition in
Dallas. When Andrea asked who would be her roommate in the
Dallas hotel, Stevens smiled and said he would be her roommate.
Andrea may have been young, but she knew what that meant.
Feeling threatened, Andrea skipped Dallas and discontinued her lessons.
Like Ruth, Andrea told her story long after abandoning the
studio.
There were no
other stories, but I figured where there's smoke, there's
fire. Considering most women prefer to keep this kind
of
story to themselves, more than likely Andrea and Ruth
were the tip of the iceberg. I had seen the hidden couch way in the back,
so when Ruth mentioned Stevens had suggested they visit
the couch, I knew she was telling the truth. Did Cliann
know about the couch? If so, that might explain her hot temper. I do not
know who was to blame. What I do know is that Lance
and Cliann fed off each other's
negativity in a truly dysfunctional way.
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Lance Stevens
made me miserable, but it was Cliann I feared the most.
Despite his dislike, Stevens wanted to keep me around.
Not Cliann.
Maybe I was overly paranoid, but I felt Cliann was out
to get me. Based on her intense scrutiny, I assumed she was
building a case against me. But why?
I
had nothing but respect for Cliann. Her dancing was
phenomenal, her beauty unquestioned, her exercise class
ran smoothly. I never understood how a woman
as stunning as her could be so unhappy, but I had a hunch that
hanging around Lance Stevens could do this to a
person. But why take it out on me? I had never
exchanged a single word with Cliann, so how did I get on her bad side?
Finally I
couldn't take it anymore. I asked Dorothy what the story
was. She confirmed that many of their fights were
about me. Cliann was determined to get rid of me, but
due to the money I was
bringing in, Lance wanted to keep me around. Cliann
refused to take no for answer. Dorothy was not sure,
but she suspected Cliann was trying to get Stevens to let
her daughter Renee have my job.
Cliann had never
been warm when I first started back in October.
However, at least she left me alone.
The morbid
staring began in July. June had been a tough month.
Eric, the heir apparent, had self-destructed.
Then I rebelled against being forced to attend a Saturday
night Ballroom Party. And of course there was the
Ritz. I assumed it was the combination of these events
that riled up the Three Grouchos. I wondered if the
Ritz was the reason. After all, I had looked
ridiculous after the lighting issue. But maybe Dorothy
was right. Maybe Renee was out of school and needed a
summer job.
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Renee was Cliann's
daughter by a previous marriage. I had first seen
Renee dancing the Whip at a big dance contest.
Although Renee was only 17, she was just as hot as her
mother. Renee could really move her body. She caused a sensation with her
eye-catching hip motion during the contest.
Wow! Renee is in high school and
looks like that? She had my respect. If you've got it, flaunt it.
One night Stevens spoke to me.
"My wife
has the instincts of a Witch. Cliann can
sense things. She says you are a snake, that you
are planning to leave. She wants me to fire you and replace
you with her daughter Renee. I need to know what
you are up to."
I turned white.
Suddenly it all made sense. I had noticed Renee
hanging around the studio lately. Now I knew why she had been here.
I assumed Renee had just finished high school
in June, so maybe it was true that she wanted my job.
Or maybe she was still in school and needed a summer
job. Either way, my job was in peril. I looked Stevens
in the eye and gave it to him straight.
"Mr.
Stevens, why would you
want to replace me? I am sorry I didn't do better at
the Ritz performance, but I take my teaching job very seriously
and you know that."
Stevens nodded.
I might not be his idea of a prototype dance professional,
but I did take my job seriously. He proceeded to give
me the longest talk in ages.
"Ever since
Renee got all the old men worked up at the contest, Cliann is convinced Renee should be a dance
teacher. Cliann is wearing me out with her
demands. She says the men will line up to take
lessons from her daughter. Furthermore, since Renee is my stepdaughter,
Cliann thinks I owe her a job.
Cliann gets
mad when I say Renee is too young.
Most of your Disco students are 30 and over, so I told
Cliann I did not think having a teenage instructor would work. So
now Cliann has changed her tactics. She is trying
to persuade me you're planning a secret exit strategy. She says
you are about to betray me and take all your students with
you. I want to know if she is right."
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Realizing I
had a powerful enemy, I chose my words carefully.
"Mr. Stevens,
you have nothing to worry about. I have no desire to
leave. I like it here [total fib].
You gave me a huge break to teach at a time when I wasn't
very experienced. For that reason, I will always be in your debt. Besides,
you know
full well I do not have the experience or the talent to run a studio by
myself [another fib]. Why would I do something
stupid like leave? Would you mind telling me what your wife bases her case on?"
"Cliann has a sixth sense.
She has used it on me many times. She
doesn't trust you, that's all I know. She's convinced you
are planning to leave in the night and gut the studio.
Her
attitude is 'Kill the snake before it can do any
damage!'"
Although Stevens
was convinced I was next to worthless thanks to the Ritz Debacle, he
wasn't so sure getting rid of me was a good idea, especially
without a reliable replacement. Why
exchange someone who pays the rent and pads his savings
account with an unproven teenager? I also had the
impression that he had mixed feelings for Renee.
Renee had a smart-mouth on her and I had seen her rub
Stevens the wrong way. Nevertheless,
I imagine Cliann's
warning had him rattled. If so, he had nothing to
worry about. I did not like working here, but I had no
plans to leave. Stevens stared at me
for a while, then shrugged and walked away. I rolled
my eyes in disgust. Just another exciting night of palace
intrigue.
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July 1978
wolf in sheep's
clothing
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I caught a lucky
break when Stevens warned me why Cliann was
eyeing me so carefully. Like any mother, Cliann wanted
to give her daughter every advantage. I was
equal parts alarmed and
impressed by Cliann. Despite any shred of evidence,
her instincts were correct that I
was not to be trusted. More likely she understood
human nature. She knew Stevens had no right to expect
my loyalty, so when the time came to move on,
I would have no reason to hesitate.
Unnerved to
discover Cliann had me under close watch, I was forced to adopt an unusual survival strategy. Of course I
was miserable. Of course I wanted to leave.
However,
I still had a lot to learn, so it made sense to remain until I
was fully prepared. Now that I understood the reason
for Cliann's suspicion, I had to find a way to guard my
thoughts. Easier said than done. Unfortunately my temper was eating me
alive. I was furious at the whole situation.
First Eric, then the stupid Ballroom party, then the Ritz, now the Cold War and Renee threat. My first
impulse had been to dare Stevens to replace me with Renee. "Go ahead,
Mr. Stevens, put that teenager in my spot and watch as every one of your students walks out the door."
However, I bit
my tongue. My
memory of Fujimoto had stopped me. He was the one who had
taught me to watch what I say.
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|
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That night I ran the
situation past Jenny. "Goddamn it, I hate that man so
much I want to strangle him! The nerve of Stevens to accuse
me of betraying him. If he pops off at me one more
time, I swear I am going to tell him he is the biggest
jackass to ever walk the earth."
Jenny frowned.
"That is not a very good idea, Rick. Remember what
happened to Eric? Eric could have had everything he
wanted if he had just played his cards right. Now you're
acting just like Eric. If you open your big mouth,
you will regret it. I
swear, you and Eric are just alike, full of ambition, too impatient to play the game
correctly."
"Okay, smarty
pants, what do you suggest?"
"You're the
big mythology guy. Who was known for their
wisdom?"
"Odysseus.
He was
the guy who thought of the Trojan Horse trick."
"Yes, that's
the way I remember it too, but aren't you forgetting
someone?"
"Who?" I
replied.
"Athena.
She was the goddess who whispered the Trojan Horse suggestion to Odysseus. The
way I see it, your best bet is to
fool Stevens. He is so convinced that you are a loser,
all you have to do is flatter him,
kowtow, play stupid. Then step back and let his gullibility do the
rest. You can't fool Cliann. She
probably is a witch. But
Stevens is a different story. I think your
problems at the Ritz have lulled him to sleep. You
need to keep it that way."
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Behind every
successful man is the woman who got him there.
Isn't that how the saying goes?? Jenny was right.
Once I calmed down I told Jenny I agreed with her. Jenny's advice was exactly
the advice I needed to attempt a daring strategy.
This time it was my knowledge of Roman history that came to my
rescue. Back in the days of Augustus Caesar, there
was an awkward royal named Claudius who stuttered and
stumbled as a boy. Young Claudius definitely had his problems, but
he was actually quite intelligent. However, no one
knew it. Everyone ignored Claudius because he was
pathetic and lacked the confidence to say anything.
Meanwhile, as Claudius aged, six
heirs to the throne had died under mysterious
circumstances. Claudius feared they had been assassinated or poisoned.
That meant someone in the Royal Palace was deadly.
But who? Claudius continued to pretend to be a
bumbling simpleton. This deception allowed Claudius
to hide in plain sight.
According to
English writer Robert Graves, there is strong
circumstantial evidence that Livia, second wife to Augustus,
had secretly murdered various heirs to the throne
in order to make way for her son Tiberius by a
previous marriage. Her strategy succeeded when
Tiberius replaced Augustus (rumor has it Livia poisoned
her husband Augustus too).
However
Livia did Rome no favors. Having murdered everyone with
any drop of talent, Livia inadvertently paved the
way for the insane tyrant
Caligula to take the throne after the death of her son
Tiberius. The Praetorian Guard
became so fed up with taking orders from this madman, they
assassinated Caligula in his
palace plus a dozen others to complete the purge. However, they
ignored
Claudius because he was so feeble-minded. Then came the
surprise. Following the blood
bath, the Praetorian Guard discovered Claudius
was the only male still alive with an ounce of royal blood.
Hey, good thing we didn't kill him!
Blessed are the meek.
Claudius became the emperor.
I decided to model
myself after Claudius. Thanks to my troubles in
graduate school, I had learned the necessity of
developing a mask to deceive people in authority. Since Stevens
perceived me as an incompetent bumbler, I decided to reinforce his
low opinion any way I could. Carefully honing my
humble act to disguise my desire for rebellion, I was polite, obsequious and
insincere at all times.
•
"Mr.
Stevens, sir, please let me help you do that..."
•
"Yes, Mr. Stevens, you have my word on that, you
can always count on me..."
•
"Mr.
Stevens, I know I'm a poor dancer, but I am trying hard to do a good job for you..."
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 |
Servile to a
fault, my ploy worked. Stevens took my word over that of his wife that I was not planning to leave.
Why should I
leave? It wasn't about the money. I had two
full-time jobs, so money was not a problem. It was
about gaining valuable experience. My program was
thriving and, thanks to Stevens'
apathy, I now had free rein to do
things my way. However, my obsequious act did not fool
Cliann. I had
to hand it to her, Cliann used her powers to see right
through my disguise. She knew full well it was just an act.
But Stevens was so convinced I was a mouse, Cliann could
not get through to him. Hmm. Was this a case of
Cosmic Blindness?
I heard a
rumor that one of Stevens' previous instructors had taken a few dozen students with
him and gone into business for himself. If that
was true, this might explain why the Three Grouchos trusted me so little.
I definitely had the power to hurt them
financially if I left. Given that the next Eric was nowhere in
sight, Stevens would have been in a world of hurt.
That dire possibility might explain the intense suspicion of
Cliann.
|
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Lance Stevens
was always complaining there was no loyalty in the
dance business. For crying out loud, did the man ever
look in the mirror? After the way Stevens treated me,
why would anyone dream of being loyal to him?
Based on the number of times he repeated his
lament, I concluded the rumor about the dance teacher who
had done him wrong was probably true. That
might explain why
he treated me so poorly. Since all dance
teachers were bound to betray him, why
bother being nice?
What Stevens did not know was that
I would have been loyal to him if he had treated me with an
ounce of decency. Loyalty has always come naturally to
me. However, if I am crossed, watch out, my loyalty goes out the
window. I
was the best thing to happen to his
business, but not once did Stevens show the
slightest appreciation. All he had to do
was say 'thank you' once in a while and I
would have remained loyal. But that wasn't his
style.
Stevens did not
trust anyone. He didn't trust me, he didn't trust
Cliann, he didn't trust Renee. I also think he had a
fatal flaw. Stevens was so wrapped up in himself, he
was not terribly perceptive.
Deceived by the second coming of bumbling stumbling Claudius, Stevens had no idea I was secretly a wolf in sheep's
clothing. Stevens should have listened to his
wife. But that was not exactly his nature,
was it? He didn't listen to anyone.
Dorothy reported
Cliann considered her husband to be an incompetent
businessman. If so, then Stevens' decision to ignore
his wife's warning must have driven her nuts. Cliann knew damn well I was dangerous, but she
may have
erred by being too strident. Due to her constant nagging that
Stevens accept her daughter as my
replacement, I wonder if she rubbed her husband the wrong way.
A little sweet talk might have worked better, but Cliann did
not strike me as a sweet talk kind of girl. She was
more the sledgehammer type. And so Stevens refused to
listen. Bad move. During the Cold War, Stevens
made a serious mistake to underestimate me. More than
likely, the Ritz Debacle blinded him so much to my
secret ambition that Cliann's warnings fell on deaf ears.
There was great
irony in the story of the Cold War. I seethed at the
disrespect, the lack of gratitude, the unnecessary
hostility. Once Stevens stabbed me in the back by
forcing me to perform at the Ritz, I was so bitter at being
set up for failure that I lost all remaining allegiance.
Although I am a good person at heart, I do have a dark side.
Disgusted by the abuse, from this point on I began
to work strictly for my own ends.
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THE YEAR OF LIVING
DANGEROUSLY
Chapter
NINE:
DEBORAH
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