THE YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY CHAPTER ELEVEN: BEAUTY Written by Rick Archer

Rick Archer's Note:   I am fond of an Arabic Proverb known as "Two Days".  It goes like this: Life consists of two days.  One is for you, one is against you.  During your Brightest Day, do not be proud or reckless.  When it is your Darkest Day, be patient.  Both days will be a test for you. Which is basically another way of saying "When you're hot, you're hot, when you're not, you're not."  Don't ask me why, but in August 1978 I was radiant hot.  Wherever I went, women smiled at me.    The belly dance experience led to a considerable amount of meditation concerning the power a woman's beauty had over a man.  Once those young ladies used their bodies like a weapon to entice me, I never felt more out of control with lust in my life.  Their teasing made them irresistible.  Turned on for an entire hour, I was dying to grab one of those women.  For a moment, I had felt aggravated because these women were taking such great delight at my expense.  But after it was over I realized they had paid me a giant compliment.  The girls enjoyed seducing me specifically because they perceived me as a worthy playmate.  By turning me into a trophy of sorts, they invested serious energy in an effort to tantalize me.  I had spent my entire life feeling ugly due to my facial scars.  Today some very pretty girls had found me attractive.  If they thought I was ugly, they would not have bothered, I was sure of that.  My desire had confirmed their beauty while in turn their flirtations made me feel attractive.  This was a nice thought.  Yes, I was disappointed not to come away with a phone number, but these women had given me a gift far more valuable.  These lovely young women made me feel attractive.  Previously I have spoken of my Epic Losing Streak and how the driving force in my life was the desire to attract a woman equivalent to my former female St. John's classmates.  I wasn't concerned about the men.  I had already proven through academics and sports that I was their equal.  However, given the power of the negative mental image concerning my appearance, the only way to break that curse was to find the mythical woman of my dreams and keep her.  You know what?  Jenny would have been perfect.  But she was gone.  That meant the search was sure to continue.

JULY-AUGUST 1978 A GROUP SPIRIT EMERGES

During my Apprenticeship period I had played a risky game known as 'One Step Ahead'.  It was nerve-wracking being forced to produce something new for my advanced students each week.  I lived in constant fear the day might come when I could not come up with something new and interesting in time for my next class.  In a sense, I operated without a safety net.  However, my furious two weeks of practice with Suzy for the June Ritz performance had produced so much new dance material that I did not have to scramble to stay ahead of my advanced Disco students during July.  To my great relief, I finally had a cushion.  Prior to July I was only slightly better as a dancer than my best students.  How could I be better?  I never had time to practice.  Due to my perpetual ordeal to develop material for new course levels, I did not go to the Pistachio Club to dance, but rather strictly to watch.  I rarely danced because my time was better spent scrounging for One Step Ahead patterns.  This is why the Ritz held so much terror for me.  I was forced to perform difficult patterns I barely knew myself.  As a result, I was not even remotely an advanced dancer.  In fact, some of my advanced students were almost as good as the teacher, a source of great embarrassment.  When it came to footwork, leads, timing, styling, I was painfully lacking.  If I performed acrobatics, yes, I could have all eyes on me in an instant.  However you need an open floor for that plus a partner willing to risk her life.  Nor did I have a teacher to help me hone my technique.  Consequently my partner dancing lacked polish.  That explains why I struggled so much with Suzy at the Ritz.  I knew tons of moves, but I lacked the 'muscle memory' necessary to be an elite dancer.  Since I was nowhere near as good a dancer as I was supposed to be, I was constantly forced to pretend to know what I was doing.  The fear of exposure was a recurring nightmare. Fortunately, my teaching job in July was nowhere near as demanding as it once had been.  For the time being, there was no pressing need to develop new material.  Now that I was teaching patterns I already knew for the second time, there were no nasty surprises to fear.  This eliminated any further need to be an Imposter.  What a relief!  Now that my Apprenticeship was complete, my days of 'Fake It Till You Make It' were over.  This lull in the action was wonderful because it allowed me to slip into a new role, 'Leader of the Pack'.  With all that stress behind me, going dancing after class for the fun of it seemed like a very good idea.  Once a week I would say, "Meet me at the Pistachio Club after class."  One week I would invite the Monday students.  Another week I might invite the Thursday or Friday students.  I understood my students would progress faster if I joined them at the club and danced alongside them.  This moved my program to a new stage of development.  By dancing with the girls and hanging out with the men at my spot on the railing, I began to make friends with some of my students.  And they began to make friends with each other. They enjoyed the progress they made thanks to the extra practice.  Some of my students were good enough to join the second tier of dancers in the club.  Oh, sure, there were always going to be a few elite dancers better than us, but my students were improving rapidly.  And so was I.  We were learning side by side and developing a warm camaraderie in the process.  The women loved it.  They would much rather go dancing with men they knew from dance class.  The men loved it too.  Dancing with ladies from class allowed them to avoid the nerve-wracking threat of rejection that comes from approaching women they did not know.  The Pistachio Club was our hangout.  We would have a good time talking and dancing together.  In the process, a wonderful group spirit emerged, a Band of Brothers and Sisters. Lance Stevens believed a dance teacher had to be a champion.  Yes, that would be preferable, but I discovered a dance teacher only needs to know more than the students he or she teaches.  My students knew I wasn't the best dancer in Houston, especially after seeing a champion like Eric in action.  However, as long as I gave them new challenges, that was good enough for them.  They appreciated that I put my heart and soul into helping them improve any way I could.  Their loyalty allowed them to overlook my shortcomings as a teacher.  As long as they were having fun and I kept finding new things for them to learn, that was good enough for them.  They liked what I was doing and enthusiastically supported me by returning month after month for the next level of classes. This emerging group spirit is what led to a shift in the balance of power with my boss.  My students had eyes.  It was easy for them to see how Stevens treated me.  However, I had not anticipated that Stevens would pay a political price.  My surly boss had managed to turn himself into Enemy of the People.  Indeed, the hostility emanating from Stevens was so intense that it actually split the studio in two.  Angry at Stevens for how he treated me in public, it was no longer Me against him, it was Us against him.  This strange development made it much tougher for Stevens to fire me.  Part of it was money.  Although Stevens had little respect for me as a dancer and a teacher, I was definitely the Cash Cow, the proverbial Golden Goose.  Here is my point.  I was still in my learning phase when Eric appeared in May.  I had gained so much confidence thanks to the hard work I put in for the Ritz performance, Stevens would be foolish to threaten me.  To do so risked losing all my students.  This is how I learned a valuable lesson.  A student does not have loyalty to a studio, a student only has loyalty to their teacher.  It was gratifying to know my students had my back.

august 1978 ME AND MY BIG MOUTH

My story about the emerging 'Group Spirit' helps to explained what happened next.   Monday nights were reserved for my 8 pm Super-Advanced Disco class.  This class challenged me the most because it consisted of my most experienced students.  Most of these students had been taking classes continuously all the way back to March, two or three even as far back as January.  In my thoughts, I referred to them as my 'Core Group'.  July had been a fun time for us.  Jenny wanted Monday nights to herself.  She claimed she needed to recover from our active weekends, but more likely this is when she saw Randy.  Be that as it may, I used the free night to take my best dancers with me to the Pistachio Club after class. By going dancing after class on Mondays, the people in this particular class had become friends as well as students.  However, there had been a few speed bumps.  Now that they saw me dance on a regular basis, the group realized I was only slightly better than they were.  In addition, they had finally caught on to my 'One Step Ahead' strategy.  Even though the cat was out of the bag, to my great relief no one seemed to mind.  In fact, they understood my dilemma and appreciated that I was doing my best to scrounge up new patterns to please them.  As long as I kept finding new moves to keep them challenged, that was good enough for them.  I appreciated that these people were very loyal.  However, I was not the only reason they continued my class.  They liked each other as well.  Coming to class meant coming to see their friends.  I felt the same way.  At this point, the 20 Core Group students had become my best friends.  With my Imposter identity no longer necessary, I was able to let my guard down.  As they got to know me, they realized the pressure I was under due to the Cold War.  They reassured me if I ever had to leave the studio, they would come with me.

A couple nights after Jenny broke up with me, I was feeling pretty lonely.  It was Friday, July 28.  After class ended, I decided to head over to the Pistachio Club.  As I hoped, I ran into some of my friends from the Monday class.  Dave, Rodrigo, Thomas and Jane invited me to join them.  While we were hanging out, I decided to tell them about the Jet Set Club.  After teaching at the Jet Set for most of the year, I could not keep the secret to myself any longer.  I described the Jet Set like an Insane Asylum that played Disco music.  I couldn't help it, I just had to tell someone.  When I mentioned the hidden booths along the wall where the couples could mingle and grope out of sight, my friends became intensely curious.  At their request, I told them about the hanky panky that took place in the booths.   Their eyes grew wide as I explained why they kept the joint pitch black.  The dark gloom allowed men to drink with one hand and grope body parts under the table.  I added the women did not seem to mind.

Noticing the horror on Jane's face, I could not help myself.  I said, "Here, Jane, let me show you how the groping works."  Reaching under the table, I grabbed the inside of Jane's thigh and squeezed hard.  Jane was so shocked she almost screamed.  I thought she was going to hit me, but fortunately the three guys were laughing so hard Jane somehow managed to forgive me.  I don't know what made me do that.  After all, I barely knew the poor girl.  It was just an impulse.  However, my bold move really broke the ice.  Now they were fascinated.  All four, including Jane, demanded to hear more.  They peppered me with a million questions.  I told them it was so dark, a woman might be practically undressed and no one could see a thing.  Sometimes I got nosy and made a pretense of going to the bar.  As I passed by, I would take a discrete peek.  One night I noticed something white laying on the floor.  In the gloom, I was about to pick it up when I realized it was a woman's bra.  Noticing the passionate embrace in the booth, I kept on walking.  Another time I saw a man gasping and moaning.  Something fishy was going on, so I looked closer.  Noting his pants down at his knees, I assumed the woman next to him was gently stroking his manhood.  It was forbidden to go all the way on the premises, but guests were allowed to build up plenty of steam before driving off to someone's home for the exchange.  When I told them the story of the screaming blind girl, good grief, I thought their eyes would pop out of their sockets.  I told my friends how all this wicked behavior shocked me at first, but then I got used to it.  These were the Swinging Seventies, the decade of decadence.  Until AIDs came along to take all the fun out of casual sex, the Seventies were the era of sexual freedom.  The Disco Era with its explicit song lyrics and rampant drug use put the exclamation point on a wild period in American history. My friends stared at me incredulously.  I could see their imaginations running wild, especially the men.  Visualizing this place as some sort of non-stop hedonistic orgy, they were getting worked up.  I could see their frat boy enthusiasm clearly irritated Jane.  Still fuming over my earlier stunt, Jane said, "I don't believe a word of this, Rick.  You're just making this stuff up." Was it about people?  Jane would never admit it, but she secretly just as curious as Alice in Wonderland.  Challenge thrown, all eyes turned to me.  Had I been older and wiser, I would have sidestepped this challenge and pretended that yes, I had been pulling their leg.  However, I was young and foolish, so I told Jane if she didn't believe me, she could come see for herself.  Big mistake!  Huge mistake!  I had just opened the door to one of the strangest stories of my entire life.  Dave immediately spoke up.   "Rick, where is the Jet Set Club located?  Can anybody come?  Do we have to bring a woman along to get in the door?  Hey, Jane, are you coming too?  If I get the right offer, I might need to swap you for someone!" Seeing the look on Jane's face, I nearly bust a gut.  Jane was having a rough night.  First me, now Dave.  As Jane turned purple with embarrassment, Dave's jest got a big laugh.  As so the die was cast.  There was no turning back.

They all turned to look at me.  "Can we join you next Thursday? Pleeeze?" I smiled and told them I did not see why not.  I gave directions, then added I wouldn't mind having a few friends along to help keep me sane.  However, Jane was still unconvinced.  "Do you boys really believe Rick?  We all know bullshit is his second nature." To a man, they chimed in harmony, "Sure we do!" Dave added, "We all know Rick isn't clever enough to make this stuff up, so it has to be true.  Come on, Jane, why don't you come with us?  Field trip Thursday!  Jet Set here we come.  Let's meet at the studio and go in one car." That settled it.  The gang was headed to the Devil's Playground including Skeptical Jane.  The following Thursday, August 3, Dave, Rodrigo, Thomas and Jane made the scene.  Not only did they have a marvelous time, all four of them became major stars that night.  The Jet Set regulars enjoyed watching the three guys take turns partner dancing with Jane.  To considerable applause, the men all got big heads.

Believe it or not, the attention got to Jane too.  Jane, sometimes known as 'Plain Jane', was introverted and quite conservative in her morals.  Visiting this place was a major departure.  To her surprise she had a good time.  Jane had never realized how much fun it was to be center of so much attention.  However just when Jane was laughing at how crazy the place was, something happened to upset her.  It turned out the guys were lucky to pick the perfect night for their first visit.  One of Bernard's strippers from his men's club down the street came by to watch my Disco lesson.  Sitting at the bar, the stripper had something to drink while she watched the class.  In the process, she got more than a little tanked up.  When things got extra dark during the practice session afterwards, the stripper got out on the floor and took her top off.  Despite the dark, my friends were close enough to the dance floor to be treated to a free show.  Woo hoo!

I had seen this happen before, so I had some immunity.  Not the guys.  They dropped their jaws in astonishment while their eyes tracked the woman's enormous breasts as they bounced in time to the music.  I grinned as the men's heads bobbed up and down.  These guys acted like they had never seen breasts that large in their entire life.  Well, now that I think of it, neither had I until I began coming to the Jet Set.  I had never been to a strip club, so I enjoyed the show as much as the three guys.  On the other hand, Skeptical Jane was disgusted.  She gasped and covered her mouth.  The look on her face was hysterical.  I have never seen a more shocked woman in my life.  Poor Jane.  The Jet Set was no place for people who led sheltered lives. Enjoy it while you can.  The men were disappointed when one of the bartenders raced out on the dance floor.  He was bringing pasties to cover her nipples.  That made her legit in the eyes of the law.  When the song ended, the stripper left the stage.  Or should I say she was gently escorted off.  Ah, gee, too bad, show's over.  While my friends danced some more, I visited Kevin in the DJ booth.  "Hey, Kevin, what's the deal with the pasties?" Kevin reminded me that Thursday was tame compared to Saturdays.  Kevin said this place was a zoo on Saturday night.  He confirmed it was common on Zoo Night for women to dance topless here at the club, but only if they covered their nipples.  No exceptions.  Although I made a mental note to visit the Saturday night Jungle someday, I never quite worked up the courage.  Let me make a confession.  When it came to taking a walk on the wild side, I was just a couple steps ahead of my four friends.  I pretended to be a man of the world, but in reality I was a babe in the woods compared to the Jet Set regulars.  However, I admit I was getting quite an education. My tagalong friends fell in love with the Jet Set.  Well, at least the men did.  This was their first-ever visit to the blue side of town.  Naked women!  Abundant bad girls!  Praise for their dancing!  Plus they had each other for protection plus me, Fearless Leader.  That made them feel safe enough to explore this strange world and fantasize.  Jane, on the other hand, looked worried.  It did not help that the men kept needling Jane that they were going to swap her for one of the hot Mamas who kept coming by to ask the boys to dance.  Feeling insecure, Jane grabbed me and dragged me out on floor to dance.  "Rick, don't you dare leave me!  If you leave me now, I will scream!" The funny thing was that Jane stuck around despite her discomfort.  Jane could have demanded to leave earlier in the night, but to her credit she was curious enough to conduct a field study of her own.  Listening to Jane share her views, she reminded me of myself.  I was always trying to figure out what went through the mind of a wife swapper.  It was definitely an interesting night.  In fact, right after the gang of four left, things got even more interesting.  Jane had done me a serious favor by asking me to dance.

Thursday, august 3 BEAUTIFUL WOMAN #3 OF TEN Karen

My friends had put on quite a dance show at the Jet Set.  The key figure was Jane who alternated dancing with the three men.  Jane might be on the shy side, but she could really dance.  Tonight Jane had come out of her shell.  Smiling and laughing, Jane showed us a side we never knew existed.  Jane's skill made Dave, Rodrigo, and Thomas look like John Travolta out there.  Since my four friends practically lived at the Pistachio Club, they were among the second tier of the best Disco partner dancers in Houston.   The Jet Set had never seen anything like it.  Watching them strut their stuff up on stage had the club regulars in awe. I suppose my alert Readers are curious to know why I had never received similar attention.  Calm down, I am getting to that.  It was true that no one at the Jet Set had ever seen me show off before.  Can you guess why?  Advanced partner dancing requires two people who know what they are doing.  I had been teaching here for six months and had yet to bring a dance partner along.  Since there was no woman at the Jet Set even remotely in Jane's league, so far I had been limited to what I could do without a trained partner.

That problem disappeared the moment Skeptical Jane asked me to dance.  To be fair, Jane was a Believer now.  Jane was disgusted that a place as naughty as this existed, but since she was here, she might as well get some dancing in.  Jane and I put on quite a show.  The other dancers cleared the floor so they could watch as well.  When Kevin in the Deejay booth noticed the floor had cleared, he decided to turn the spotlight on so the whole club could watch us in action.  Dancing with a skilled partner who had been my student for several months now, I was able to put all those amazing acrobatics to good use.  The spectators were in awe and let us know about it.  Jane and I left the stage to a very warm round of applause.  Even the three guys were impressed.  They inundated Jane with compliments. After my exhibition with Jane, I felt the need for a moment of privacy, so I slipped into a vacant booth.  It was about this time the stripper showed up to mesmerize the crowd in a much different way.  With the crowd distracted by large breasts the size of cantaloupes, I no longer existed.  Oh well, that's show business.

Just then someone slipped into the spot next to me.  It was Karen.  My heart skipped a beat.  Karen was no ordinary woman.  The word 'Hot' did not do justice.  'Scorching Hot' would come closer.  Karen was a dark-haired brunette, 5' 6", with classic hourglass dimensions.  I stopped breathing the moment she smiled at me. Karen and her husband Kirk were among my Jet Set regulars.  They had been attending my class for the past four months.  They enjoyed the lessons and never missed a week.  In addition, they made a habit of practicing whatever I taught after class till they got it right.  As a result, Karen and Kirk were my best Jet Set dance couple. Karen, 29, was quite a beauty.  A buxom woman with a body sculpted for sin, Karen was a thriller of the highest magnitude.  She was without a doubt the most attractive woman at the Jet Set Club.  Although I found her irresistible, I had said nothing due to her wedding ring.  I thought I was being discrete with my covert glances of approval, but apparently Karen had detected my appreciative gaze.  I guess she knew what that look meant... Desire.  Be that as it may, I had no intention of taking action.  Look but don't touch.  I appreciated Karen's considerable beauty and left it at that.  Karen wasted no time.  "I really liked watching you dance out there with that woman.  I was very impressed.  I had no idea you were that good." When she paused to smile, my pulse began to race.  Something out of the ordinary was going on here.  I could see by the sparkle in her eyes.   "Rick, would you consider taking me out dancing?  I would love to go dancing with you some night."

I took a very deep breath.  Although I worked at a club where sexual opportunities were rampant, so far I had stayed on the sidelines.  No orgies, no groping, no swapping, not even a careless smooch after a dance.  Whatever these people did behind closed doors remained a mystery to me.  I was curious, but not curious enough to throw my hat in the ring. "What about Kirk?  Is your husband okay with this?" Karen nodded wordlessly. I gulped.  I had a hard time believing any man would give Karen permission, but then again these people did have some unusual ways of looking at society's rules.  "Okay, Karen, in that case, yes, I would enjoy taking you out for a night of dancing.  But first I need to check with Kirk just to be on the safe side.  I don't want to risk any misunderstanding.  Is that all right?" Karen nodded again.  She left to return to her table.  When Kirk came off the dance floor, I took him aside and asked.  To my surprise, Karen had told the truth.  Kirk said they had already discussed it and he was on board.  I was incredulous.  I could not believe Karen's husband had given her permission to see me.  Now I wondered if I had the guts to go through with this.  How do I explain my mind set?  Due to Karen's movie star looks, I was very intimidated.  My beloved Jenny was very attractive in her own right, but she did not scare me because we were on the same wavelength.  Jenny was easy to talk to, so I relaxed and enjoyed her company.  Karen on the other hand was a woman of few words.  This meant I had no idea who I was dealing with.  Karen let her body do the talking instead.  She was what some might call a Sex Bomb.  There was something dark, something unexplained about this moody woman.  She was hiding something.  It wasn't anger.  I didn't feel hostility or bitterness, but she was very guarded.  Karen was a woman who did not want you to know what she was thinking.  And yet Karen was also bold.  The way Karen had asked me out reminded me of Vanessa, the evil woman who broke my heart by cheating on me in Graduate School.  Since neither women had qualms about making the first move, I worried that Karen might be just as dangerous as Vanessa.  Due to my inexperience with women, I decided Karen was definitely out of my league.  Gaye and I had discussed the concept of Fair Game many times.  Gaye's rule was to date a woman my own age and maturity.  I understood what Gaye was getting at, but what happens when a woman with far more sexual experience decides to pick on me?  In the past I had failed every time I stepped up in weight class.  I failed badly with Vanessa.  I made a fool of myself with Rachel.  I could not even work up the courage to ask Katie for a date.  However, that was then, this was now.  Right now I was on fire.  Ever since Jenny, it seemed like women smiled wherever I went.  The dance floor gave me strength.  For example, tonight even Skeptical Jane was dropping hints.  This was a first.  With my confidence sky high, why not take a chance?  Karen was easily the most sexually attractive woman I had met since Vanessa five years earlier.  I saw Karen as a test, a way to mark my progress.  Let's find out if I was ready to play in Karen's league.  I walked over to Karen who was sitting alone.  "How about this coming Saturday night?" Karen smiled.  "You mean this Saturday?" I nodded. Karen said nothing, but her eyes said yes.  Without a word, she slipped me a piece of paper with her address and phone number. After a quick glance, I said, "See you Saturday, 8:30." Again Karen said nothing.  But when she licked her lips in anticipation, I began to tremble.  What do you suppose crossed my mind?  The Gangster Dance Party with all those enticing women and all those jealous men.  Karen was another man's wife.  What have I gotten myself into?

 

THE YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY Chapter THIRTEEN:  SOAP OPERA

 

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