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THE YEAR OF LIVING
DANGEROUSLY
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
NANCY
Written by Rick
Archer
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I am
sorry to say I never saw Francesca again. Who
can blame her for disappearing?
I am sure she was just as embarrassed by the
spectacle as I was. You know what?
Even by my standards, this story was beyond weird. For
that reason, I suppose my loyal Reader
suspects I added a degree of
embellishment to this story.
Not so. As hard as it is to believe, the
strange
story Francesca, Murray Bowen, and
the ugly golf jacket is 100% true.
They always say be careful
what you ask for. I had asked for some way to conceal
my ignorance regarding Murray Bowen
and my wish was granted. But not in
a good way.
I was
very bitter about
this experience for a long time.
The loss of my chance to get to know
Francesca was my main complaint, but the humiliation was a
close second. What was wrong
with that man? Was this coat and tie charade
really necessary? If it was decorum the
Maître d' sought, he badly
misjudged. It was more important
to assert his petty authority than do his job
which was to show respect to
a valued customer like Francesca.
Were the important doctors who visited
the dining room that day pleased by this unnecessary
enforcement of the dress code? I highly doubt it.
I could have been Barney the dancing purple dinosaur and not
caused more disruption. The ensuing spectacle was an
embarrassment to everyone, not just me. There was
nothing funny about it.
Plagued by the memory of
those rude stares, I suffered through a
serious depression for a week. Then one
night at the
Pistachio Club I told my story to a group
of dance student friends.
They laughed so hard they had to be helped up off the floor.
I was embarrassed of course, but their laughter actually did
cheer me up in an odd sort of way. Laughter really is
the best therapy, even if it
was at my own expense.
My Dining Room predicament
had an amusing twist. That year at our annual SSQQ
Halloween Party, my buddy Ken came to the party
wearing
a garish outfit frighteningly
similar to the one I had worn. When
I ran into him at the party, I half-smiled and half-winced.
Always the competitive one, I claimed my outfit had been
uglier. Ken disagreed. After pairing a
plaid sports coat with an ugly tie and
unmatching shirt, Ken
pointed out he had taken things one tasteless step
further by adding plaid golf pants for good measure.
Then he showed me his red socks. Impressive!
Needless to say, everything clashed.
Showing good sportsmanship, I named him winner of the
worst-dressed contest. Although Ken beamed with pride,
he did not stop there. Determined to enjoy his
practical joke to the max, throughout the party he spread
the story of my humiliation. Whenever
anyone flinched, Ken would open the lapel
of his coat to reveal a
'Rick Archer'
name tag in bold letters.
With friends
like Ken, who needs enemies?
Fortunately I got some revenge.
Have you ever heard of a Pyrrhic victory? That's the
phrase people use when you win the war, but suffer far too
much damage in the process to gain any satisfaction. Late
in the night I saw Ken standing alone as
he watched the crowded
dance floor. Curious, I went
up to him and asked how his
evening had gone.
"So, Ken,
how did your little stunt work out? What is like to be
as horrible as me for a night?"
"It hasn't been nearly as much fun as
I expected. I'm so ugly no woman wants to be seen with
me. They won't come near
for fear
someone might take
a picture of us together."
Ken
paused for a moment to feel sorry for himself.
Then with a sorrowful frown, he added, "They
won't dance with me either."
Grinning,
I replied it served him
right. "Let that be a lesson.
In the future, remember not to
wear something quite so scary to the Halloween Party."
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Looking back, I admit to being unsure
if this was
a Supernatural Event. Let's examine it using my four
Criteria.
Probability. The
drama was caused by my desire to impress Francesca in some
way. Perhaps I got a little carried away, but I was
hardly not the first young man to ever go out on a limb in
pursuit of pretty girl. Theoretically, the
conversation should have been harmless. However, the
surprising presence of the Murray Bowen article in
Francesca's trunk is what set the trap. What were the
odds of that treatise being so available? My guess is
that Francesca kept it nearby as something to read whenever
a spare moment arose. So yes, it was an odd
coincidence that our conversation drifted to Murray Bowen
and that she had the article available, but the probability
was not nearly as much of a long shot as some of my other
coincidences.
Timing. Very
strong. That article was available at the right place
at the right time.
Impact. My career
was not affected in any way. Nor was my outlook on
life affected in any way. So why was Francesca
important? The fact that a woman of Francesca's
caliber would show interest in me raised my self-confidence
level sky high.
Weirdness.
Extremely weird. I can think of lots of ways for a
potential romance to fail, but this story takes the cake.
What is important about Francesca is that she joined three
other women... Jenny, Marilyn, Karen... in elevating my
confidence level around beautiful women. I was unaware
at the time, but through the gift of Hindsight I can see
that each woman in her own way was preparing me for
Patricia, the greatest female challenge since Vanessa.
To be honest, as things stood, the
Golf Jacket story was a borderline coincidence. At
first glance it probably did not belong the Supernatural
List. Then one day I realized what really bothered me.
Do you remember how my dance performance at the Ritz was
ruined by a colossal case of bad judgment on part of the DJ?
Do you remember how Eric saved my career by making a fool of
himself? Do you recall how Lance Stevens gave me
permission to create my own dance program without a second
thought? In my book, the maitre d had been guilty of
extremely poor judgment. Was he really that stupid to
send me in there looking like that?
Or did Cosmic Blindness rob him of his
common sense? If so, what would be the purpose?
To keep Francesca and me from having any chance to connect.
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RICK ARCHER'S LIST OF
SUSPECTED SUPERNATURAL EVENTS
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MAGIC CARPET RIDE: THE DISCO YEARS |
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067 |
Suspicious |
Coincidence
Cosmic Blindness |
1978 |
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The peculiar presence of
the Murray Bowen article in Francesca's car plus a case of egregious bad
judgment by the maitre d created the bizarre Golf Clothing
debacle at the Medical Center dining room. |
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august 1978
ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST
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This was
getting really old. Four incredibly special
women, four incredibly sad endings. When I say
"Epic Losing Streak", the Reader begins to
realize I am not exaggerating.
What would
have happened if
Jenny had allowed me to stick around? I could
have been happy for the rest of my life with Jenny
at my side. Quite frankly, I was in love with
her. In addition to her considerable sex
appeal, her wisdom was off the charts.
Unfortunately, we only had three weeks together.
It was my terrible luck to meet Jenny when she was
at a different stage in her life.
What
would happened if I had not developed cold feet with
Karen? Of all the women I met during the
Summer of 1978, Karen matched up with me the best.
To my surprise, I learned that she was just as
inquisitive about the mysteries of life and love as
Jenny. She hinted at an interest in Fate.
Karen was also a terrific dancer. She would
have fit in effortlessly at the dance studio.
Nor did Karen have children. I wanted
children, maybe she did too. There was only
one thing wrong with her. She was married.
What would
have happened if
Marilyn and I had connected? Given the age
difference, probably a disaster filled with
heartbreak. But what if she was the same age
as me? What a woman! Marilyn would have
been the answer to my lifelong dream of meeting a
woman every bit the equal of the beautiful St.
John's ladies I had admired from afar. There
was only one thing wrong with Marilyn. She was
too young. Otherwise she was perfect.
What
about Francesca? Oh my gosh, Francesca was a
carbon copy of Jenny in so many ways. She was
so classy, so intelligent, a lady in every sense of
the phrase. If I could have gotten past my
insecurity about her higher status, I am fairly
certain we had a fighting chance of matching up.
However, I will never know thanks to the Force of
Fate.
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So I have a
question. Epic Losing Streak, Good Luck or Bad Luck?
Well, Bad Luck of course. Imagine how miserable I felt
having four spectacular women in a row slip through my
fingers. And yet in Hindsight a
major secret to my eventual dance career success was my strange inability
to develop a steady girlfriend.
Lured
into an endless maze of Blind Alleys by a dazzling
succession of beautiful women, each lady would teach me a
much-needed lesson, then disappear under mysterious
circumstances. And here is the
weird thing about it. The longer I spent looking in
vain for that one special woman to share my life, the more my dance
career improved.
Throughout the summer my life resembled a weekly rom-com with a new
love interest every episode. Thanks to my
newly-acquired dance ability, I
no longer had trouble getting to First
Base. Indeed, I
achieved startling initial success. However,
it seemed like every time I rounded Third headed for Home, invariably something would mysteriously go
wrong. By staying unattached, I remained
available for the next girl to come along and sweep me off
my feet. Sure enough, the moment I got my hopes up
with each new girl, something completely out of my control would
cause things to fall to pieces.
Meanwhile, my career soared.
So how exactly did my tattered Love Life enhance my dance
program?
Alice in Wonderland was the story of a young girl whose
curiosity led her to one adventure after another in hot
pursuit of the White Rabbit. Rick in Wonderland is the
story of how a succession of beautiful women enticed him to
step through risky new doors of opportunity.
Was it Bad Luck
that I never seemed to click with anyone? Or was the
Epic Losing Streak a necessary evil in pursuit of my
Destiny?
With each new chapter it will become increasing clear why I
owe my dance career to the Epic Losing Streak.
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THURSDAY, august 24
BEAUTIFUL WOMAN #6 OF TEN
NANCY
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Thursday, August 24,
had been a stressful day. That morning I had undergone my
Golf Jacket disaster with Francesca. I was in a very bad
mood as I taught at the Jet Set that night. However my mood changed the moment a stunning young woman appeared in my class. Her name was Nancy. Over the summer I had seen a
parade of beautiful women cross my path... Jenny, Marilyn,
Karen, Francesca. Nancy stood
supreme. Looking back, Nancy was the most beautiful woman I ever dated. She was also the most exotic. Nancy's
mother was Hispanic and her father was Asian. Her dual
heritage gave her the chameleon-like ability to change her
appearance at will. No matter which look Nancy chose to
don, she was hauntingly beautiful.
Nancy, 24, was 5' 4"
in height. She had big brown eyes, long black hair and a
light brown complexion. And what a figure. I could
not take my eyes off this woman for the entire dance class.
Nancy was completely different from the other Jet Set women. The
typical Jet Set women had been around the block many times. They were
hard, tough-talking, no-nonsense women. A Lizard risked losing a hand if he groped one of these
women against their will.
In contrast, there was nothing hard or cynical about
Nancy.
I was baffled by how feminine and demure she was.
Surrounded in a sea of tough women, Nancy was soft and gentle, a rare bird
indeed. I felt protective the moment I met her and wondered why
this quiet young woman was hanging around the Jet
Set Club. I also wondered what a woman of her
extraordinary beauty was doing here unescorted. Certain
that Nancy did not belong here, there was a real mystery about her.
In addition to my intense curiosity,
I ached
to touch her. On the spot, I taught a dance pattern that
would offer me the chance to put her in my arms.
When Nancy
smiled at the pleasure, I lost it right there. There was a
warmth to her I had not expected from a woman in a place like this.
This had to be
what they
meant by love at
first sight.
Unfortunately I had
to teach my class, so with great reluctance I let go. When I
turned around a few minutes later to look for her, Nancy was
gone. I was so angry at her loss I could not see straight.
I had never before felt such a powerful instant attraction.
The intensity scared me. This woman must have cast a spell.
Worried that I would never see her again, I was on pins and
needles wondering if I would see her again on the next Jet Set Thursday.
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One might be
curious about my constant reference to the immense beauty of
the women I met this summer.
Gangster women.
Beautiful. Belly Dance women. Beautiful.
Jenny. Beautiful. Marilyn. Beautiful.
Karen. Beautiful. Francesca. Beautiful.
And now Nancy. The Ultimate.
There seems to
be an endless supply of beautiful women in my stories.
Do I exaggerate? Am I guilty of embellishment?
The answer is
that I am telling the truth. Throughout the Summer of
78 I
was treated to an endless parade of truly beautiful women.
And I think I know why.
Beautiful women desire to be noticed and
appreciated. They like to show off their figures.
The Disco Era brought countless beautiful women to the dance
floor. What better way to be seen? Women love to dance, so it is no surprise
that in my capacity as a dance teacher, I was in constant
contact with a steady stream of beautiful women.
Nancy stood supreme. She would be the standard by
which I judged all other women. She
possessed a once-in-a-lifetime kind of beauty.
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But was I was beautiful enough for Nancy?
If
one could ignore the scars, I suppose I was a reasonably
attractive guy. Jenny had said I was handsome. I
was not quite sure if I believed her, but to my surprise
three unusually attractive women showed interest in me
shortly after Jenny departed. Their presence helped
bolster my confidence dramatically.
By chance, Nancy's appearance
on August 24 coincided with the third anniversary of my Melody Lane
collapse in August 1975. That was the night I had let
the oft-mentioned Katie get away. Katie and I had met
in a Ballroom dance class. On the first night of class
we paired up. We had so much fun that night that we
remained inseparable over the next five classes.
I knew Katie
liked me a lot. But did she like me enough to go out
with me? Each week I agonized over my failure to take
a chance. Fortunately I caught a break. When the
class ended, our instructor invited the class to join him at
a dance club to practice what we had learned. Katie
immediately turned to me and asked if I was going.
"Yes," I said, "I'll meet you there."
To my dismay,
the instructor had his eye on Katie from the start.
Completely ignoring the rest of his students, he took Katie
out on the floor and proceeded to sweep her off her feet.
I became so rattled by the man's superiority that I could
not imagine why Katie would choose me over my nemesis.
So I said nothing. That was the
night my fear of rejection cost me the courage to tell Katie how
much I cared about her. Despite the passage
of three years, I still had not forgiven myself for losing
Katie. Not a day
passed when I did not
kick myself for letting this special woman walk out of my
life without saying a word. That was then, this was now.
Fortunately I had come a long way since then. No matter how much I feared
Nancy's rejection, if I ever had the chance to see her
again, I
vowed I would not
let her leave without saying something.
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THE YEAR OF LIVING
DANGEROUSLY
Chapter
SEVENTEEN:
summer of 78
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