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Rick Archer's Note:
Convinced that
Patricia intended to upstage Victoria, I expected
renewed sparks to fly at the party. Although contact between Victoria and her rival had been limited to a
single benign encounter at Pistachio in mid-November, I knew
enough about Patricia to expect she would be out for revenge.
Patricia's spiteful nature called for it. Now that my private lesson snub
had reactivated her bitterness over Victoria's Halloween
rudeness, Patricia had good reason to gun for her nemesis at the Christmas
Party. Maybe her expensive red dress was the color of
blood on purpose. All she needed now was a stiletto.
Could she use her heels?
What about
Victoria? So far she had not said a word about
Patricia. All she could talk about was our lesson with
Glen and how big our party would be. That said, I had
a hunch Victoria suspected an ambush. No doubt
Patricia and Victoria would scratch and claw for Disco
Supremacy, but so what? Let the women fight.
I just wanted
to get out of the middle and conduct a discrete search for a
new lover. After the party, Patricia would be so angry
at whatever stunt Victoria pulled, no doubt she would break
up with me. Or more likely some guy with dollar signs
would come along and take her off my hands. Good
riddance.
I expected a lot
from this party. Free of of my
Child Welfare job, free of Patricia, perhaps a new
girlfriend on my arm, I could start 1979 on a high note. I could hardly
contain my excitement. I crossed my fingers and prayed
for a fresh start.
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FRIDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1978
SUSPICION
TORMENTS MY HEART
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Ah, the best
laid plans of mice and men. Wouldn't you know it,
Patricia found a way to spoil my Grand Entrance Fantasy.
On Wednesday,
November 29, Patricia and I had our big fight over Victoria
and the private lesson issue. Thursday she skipped her
final dance class. It was now Friday,
December 1, eve of Victoria's dance party.
Patricia and I had been dating a little over a month.
One month was a long time for me. Considering our epic
battles over the law school issue, it was hard to believe we were still together.
However, I was certain our time was drawing to a close.
I expected the Christmas Party would be our last hurrah.
To be honest,
neither of us had sufficiently recovered from last week's
disastrous Thanksgiving trip. So when I dropped the
bomb on Patricia that Victoria and I would be taking dance
lessons together, I assumed that was more than our fragile
relationship could tolerate. To my surprise, Patricia
did not end it right there when she should have. Why not I will never know.
One day before
the party, I got a phone call at work on Friday afternoon. Patricia explained
something had just come up at the hospital. This
last-minute headache would require her to work till late on Friday,
then spend most of Saturday completing the job. Since she had no way of knowing when she
would finish, Patricia said it would be easier just to meet me at the party
on Saturday night.
I was very disappointed. There goes my chance to use my eye candy escort as springboard for my
next love affair.
I did not believe
Patricia was telling the truth.
Not for a moment. Long ago in college, my girlfriend
Emily had phoned with a story about a last-minute project
that would tie her up for the weekend. Thanks to an amazing
coincidence, I had seen Emily and her new boyfriend enter
the train station headed for a weekend trip to New York.
That was my introduction to women who tell lies. And
of course Vanessa had taught a master course on the subject.
Plus Patricia was not very creative. She had just used
the identical 'Hospital Project' excuse with her
parents to justify leaving their house prematurely at
Thanksgiving. One would think a
smart girl like Patricia could lie better than that.
Or maybe she thought I was so stupid I would not notice the
similarity. I saw this move as Patricia's retaliation for my
Saturday morning lesson morning with Glen and Victoria.
The question is why did she have to lie about it? I
wondered what she might be up to on Friday
night. Or Saturday for that matter.
After I finished
my regular Friday night 9-10 pm class with Victoria and her
Circle of Friends, she said no one felt like going dancing after class tonight. They
wanted to save their energy for tomorrow night's Gala Event. That made sense. I didn't feel like
going dancing either. As I watched
Victoria's group file out the door, I
was left in the studio by myself. Now
what? I gave Patricia's
brush-off further thought. With nothing better to do, I decided to check out her story. I called her business
phone and got an answering machine. I called her home
phone and got an answering machine.
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This brought
back memories of Vanessa,
a woman who lied any time her lips moved. Patricia's
lame excuse had 'Vanessa' written all over it.
Any time she needed to disengage to go see Kenny, Vanessa
would hand me a whopper and expect me to believe her.
Yeah, sure. Me and Sue and that guy too.
Struck by an overwhelming wave of suspicion, I drove to
Patricia's apartment. As expected, the apartment was dark.
It was 10:30 pm. I did not believe for
a moment Patricia was working this late. After standing there for
ten
minutes, I decided it was beneath my
dignity to wait any longer.
When I got home,
it was 11 pm. There was no message from Patricia to
explain her whereabouts, so I phoned her apartment. No answer.
I did not call again. Why bother? This
relationship was over.
The similarity
of Patricia's behavior to Vanessa put me in a very dark mood. Burn me once,
shame on you, burn me twice, shame on me. I had swallowed
Vanessa's lies, but I refused to make that
mistake again. Patricia was not to be trusted. Ah, shades of
Vanessa. She has returned to haunt me. Was it my
imagination, or did I hear a lone wolf howl in the night?
Patricia was on
the prowl. I was sure of it.
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SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1978, the disco years
THE LATIN HUSTLE
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The Big Day had
arrived. It was Saturday,
December 2. I had
two events on the calendar. First up was my
much-anticipated private lesson
with Glen Hunsucker. As I drove to his studio, I recalled the Ritz Disaster back
in June when my mediocre dance skills had doomed me to
failure. Although I still used the inferior New Yorker
dance system as a teaching tool, I had
become a much better partner dancer since the Ritz
disaster. They say practice
makes perfect. Through constant practice in nightly dance class
and countless nights at the Pistachio Club, I had steadily
improved my skill.
However, there was a tier of top-flight dancers ahead of me.
This group
consisted of people who lived in the Discos and practiced as often as I did.
Their advantage was having more ability than me plus their
knowledge of the Latin Hustle, the dance
system used by elite dancers.
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I wanted to join
this group. Thanks to a full year of non-stop practice, I was close. I owed a huge
debt to my Monday night Super-Advanced
Disco class. That was the class Joanne assisted me
with. Consisting of 8 men and 8 women who loved Disco
just as much as I did, this Core Group
had done me a real favor by challenging me all year long. Their
hunger to improve forced me to
continually grow as a dancer lest they catch me. Indeed, several
of my top male students were friendly rivals. With the
right partner, these men could outshine me on a given night.
Don't tell anyone, but I secretly yearned to be the best.
For that reason, I was
relieved to meet Glen. I believed his training
would put wider separation between my skill level and
that of my best students.
I wanted Glen
to teach me some new dance moves before the ravenous Core
Group ate me alive. I also hoped to learn the secrets of
leading. The word 'Lead'
had long been a sore point. Unable to properly lead Celeste at
Phoney Baloney three years ago, Henry the dance instructor had
embarrassed me repeatedly. Unable to lead Katie at
Melody Lane three years ago, Jack the dance instructor had stolen my girl.
And of course my inability to lead Suzy had played a major
factor in the Ritz Disaster. The thought of Suzy
made me frown. I had not seen her since June.
The humiliation suffered at the Ritz had been so great, Suzy
had gone into seclusion with something akin to a nervous breakdown.
I was aware that my
understanding of Leads barely scratched the surface.
It irritated me no end that I was about to quit my day
job and yet I barely knew the finer points of
social dance. It was clear I would need professional
training if I was ever going to amount to much in the Dance
World. I wanted to improve
more than anything in the world. Now that I had a teacher,
that was the plan.
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Glen and I could
have been twins. From a distance no one tell us apart.
Same height, same build, same age, same long face, same
sarcasm.
The only
difference between us was that one of us had natural ability and one didn't.
Victoria and
Glen bonded instantly. With me, Glen was more formal.
However, I did not take it personally. He was an
excellent instructor and that was good enough for me.
The first thing
we learned from Glen was the Latin Hustle, the dance I had been longing to figure
out for months. The Hustle was a fluid, graceful
partner dance that worked perfectly to Disco music.
Due to my previous knowledge, I was pleased to find it was
not difficult to learn. Why? It turned out
that Hustle used the same footwork as Swing.
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Both Hustle and
Swing used the same rhythm, slow-slow quick-quick.
However, Swing was danced to six beats of music while Hustle
was danced to three beats, 1-2-and-3. It is too
confusing to explain, so just accept the fact that Hustle
was fast and the footwork tricky. Only people with considerable dance skill
could master it. Fortunately, due to my year of
experience, that included me.
There was one
problem. Dodging the five heavily padded
metal poles that lined Glen's dance studio in Westbury Square
was something of a headache. Pointing to the
metal poles, I said, "So, Glen,
what's with the obstacle course?"
When I saw
him frown, I realized I had hit a nerve. Glen
replied, "I have just
recently moved out on my own. This place was all I
could afford. I hate these poles, but
this place
is the best I could do on short notice. The plan
is to grow my business and upgrade to a better place next
year. Unfortunately,
jazz and ballet are not the most lucrative subjects, so that
explains why I was at the Pistachio Club last week. I
was trying to drum up
business when I met you."
Victoria
exclaimed, "So you were out fishing for students that night and you
caught us!"
Glen grinned.
"I guess you could put it like that."
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"Who was
that girl you were dancing with? She looked
kind of young."
"That was Paula Abbott. Yes, she is young,
14 to be exact. The manager told me he
didn't care about her age, just don't give her
anything to drink."
"Is she
one of your students?"
"Yes. In fact, she's my best dancer.
She was trained in jazz and ballet by Patsy
Swayze. Have you heard of her son Patrick
Swayze? Patrick used to be Paula's
babysitter. And Patsy's husband Buddy
taught Paula to walk up stairs on her hands.
Paula is still very close to the Swayze family."
"How did
you and Paula meet?"
"She
came to me for Ballroom training. Believe
it or not, at age 14 she is the current Pan
American Cha Cha champion!"
"Were
you her partner?"
"No,
she danced with Corky Ballas, the son of George
Ballas who owns Dance City USA. Corky was
Paula's boyfriend. However one night she
took him to see the Rocky Horror Picture
Show. Paula told me Corky was not
ready for a walk on wild side. Apparently
Paula was "too wild" for him so Corky
broke up with her."
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Small world.
Patsy Swayze was a friend of mine. I had taken lessons
from her for two and a half years, 1976-1978.
Unfortunately I had to give up Patsy's jazz class earlier
this year so I could teach dance lessons on Friday nights.
From what I gathered, Glen and Patsy were friends, but she
was not interested in teaching social dancing. Glen
was not terribly interested either, but did it out of
necessity. As Patsy once told me, there is not much
money in teaching jazz and ballet. Surprised to learn
we were Glen's first Disco students, I surmised he had
started to teach Disco as a way to pay his mounting bills.
I suspected Victoria and I
were the answer to his prayers.
For that matter,
Glen was the answer to our prayers. Once the
introductions and small talk about Paula were finished, Glen took time
to explain how leads work in Disco partner dancing.
I made immediate progress on the concept of Frame. I
also learned how
to stretch a woman's arm in the direction I wanted her to go
without hurting her. Pleased to learn the finer points
of leading, I left the lesson with my
confidence sky high. Victoria was
just as excited as I was. Out in the parking lot,
Victoria pulled me aside.
"I was very impressed with
the progress you made today. How did you
pick up the Hustle so fast? I thought you said you
were a slow learner at anything related to dance."
"Yes, I am a slow
learner. However once I discovered that Hustle footwork is identical to East
Coast Swing, I locked into footwork I already knew. Once I learned to syncopate the back
step, everything else was the same. It was so obvious
I cannot understand why I didn't see this long ago."
"Maybe you
had a blind spot."
I frowned.
"Don't get me started on blind spots." Truth
be told, I wondered the same thing. The Hustle was so
easy I should have figured it out long ago. Oh
well, better late than never. Now that I realized all
I had to do was to slightly modify my Swing footwork, in
just one hour I had learned enough to use the Hustle at
tonight's party. What a wonderful Christmas present.
Victoria smiled
at my discomfort. She enjoyed giving me a
hard time about my myriad shortcomings, but at least she was not mean about it
like Patricia. Surprised at how well I had done,
Victoria began to talk of a new ambition. "Rick,
I have an idea. Now that we have a teacher like
Glen, why
don't we perform together?"
I gave it some
thought. The Ritz Disaster back in
June had left
quite a scar on my confidence. However, with Glen's help,
maybe I could overcome my fear of performing. "Sounds good to me. I
am open to performing
if the opportunity presents itself."
Victoria
impulsively gave me a huge hug and held it much longer
than appropriate. This was a first.
And very troubling. The indelible sensation of her
soft breasts upon my chest had forced the Forbidden Door
of Temptation wide open.
Victoria
sprinted to her car. "See you at the party tonight!!"
I have not
spoken much of Fate lately, but it had been quite a
coincidence to meet Glen on the same night he put on his show
with Paula at the Pistachio Club.
Furthermore the timing of today's dance lesson would play a
major role in the near future.
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SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1978, the disco years
THE PISTACHIO CHRISTMAS PARTY
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December 2,
1978. I was very tense as I drove to the party.
Scarlett O'Hara set the standard by which every Belle is measured. But there was one difference.
Scarlett did not have competition. Given the animosity
between Victoria and Patricia, I expected there would be fireworks tonight.
I had planned
to ditch Patricia sometime during the party However, her suspected treachery
last night had thrown a monkey wrench in my plans.
Unsure what Patricia was up to, my timing was off.
Patricia knew full well how important this event was to
Victoria. If I knew Patricia, she would attempt to upstage Victoria. If I knew Victoria,
she
would be on alert. I thought dance parties were supposed to
be fun, but now I knew better. The Halloween Clash of Titans
had been a spontaneous conflagration. Not tonight.
This time the ladies had the chance to don their war paint in
advance. This was Diva Warfare, Fight to the Finish.
Victoria held an
overwhelming advantage. She was the
hostess. This was her party and everyone knew her.
When it came to outgoing personality, Victoria had no equal.
Victoria was the better dancer and she would have her
Circle of Friends cheering for her. As far as looks go,
small edge to Patricia, but not enough difference to matter.
Patricia was the Underdog. But so what? Patricia
did not have to win. All she had to do was ruin the
evening for Victoria.
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With a rueful
smile, I thought of Eris, the Greek Goddess of Discord.
Her evil
meddling
had led to the Trojan War.
Perhaps Patricia would follow in the footsteps of Eris and find a
way to make Victoria miserable. I would not put it
past her.
The way I saw
it, if Patricia
wanted to upstage Victoria,
her best bet would be to monopolize me. I suppose I
was the Wild Card. Whichever woman controlled me would
have the night's Alpha male to enhance her
position. For that reason, I could not figure out Patricia's
strategy. I was
of course overshadowed by the radiance of Sunshine
Victoria. However, as the male host of the
event I had value. With me at her side, Patricia could maximize
her red carpet attention. As long as Patricia
had me to parade her around, her undeniable good looks would
guarantee equal billing with Victoria.
So why had
Patricia surrendered the Grand Entrance so willingly?
Thinking back to last night's
disappearing act,
I had my theories. I believed
Patricia intended to break up with me tonight. That
was a given. Since
her chances of upstaging Victoria were slim and none, Patricia
had decided to pursue a Lone Wolf strategy instead.
Unlike me who wanted to use Patricia to improve my odds of
attracting someone new, Patricia had decided
I was a hindrance, not an asset. Due to my
prominence, it was a disadvantage to publicly tie herself to
me. Why compromise her availability by appearing at my
side?
I decided that was the answer.
Patricia would yield the party to Victoria. By coming
alone, she could concentrate on finding candidates to
replace me.
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I was not at all
happy. Well aware that the
Princess had lied to me last night, her suspected treachery
had revived a considerable amount of buried aggression
towards Vanessa. Deeply resentful of both women, my
dark side emerged. I would do anything to put Patricia
in her place. Concluding Patricia had
proactively declared her freedom, I gave it my best Rhett
Butler shrug. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a
damn." Go give Scarlett Fever to some poor unsuspecting
admirer. Meanwhile I vowed to find someone new.
Since Patricia
was on her own, I decided to get to the
party ahead of time and greet the early birds.
Arriving
before Victoria, I posted myself at the entrance.
Beside me stood a visibly-excited Pistachio representative
given the responsibility of checking invitations.
Nearby was the table where two other representatives would
attempt to sell memberships. Since the party was free, I expected a good turn-out. When people started showing up in
droves ahead of the official start time, I took that as a very good sign.
Someone showed
up with a date who did not have an invitation. The
young lady charged with guarding the door started to object,
but I pulled her aside. "If you want to sell
memberships, it does you no good to irritate a potential
customer. Just smile and welcome them."
The lady saw my
point and nodded. Be nice tonight. Save the snooty for
after the memberships are sold.
Victoria
appeared ten minutes after me. She looked fabulous
with her lustrous blond hair outlining her beautiful
face. Victoria was pleased to see
me there early. Smiling, she quipped, "I see you've
learned your lesson."
Recalling the
Halloween snafu, I replied, "You've trained
me well." That was not sarcasm.
Victoria had taught me a lot of things.
Victoria had
arrived with Michael and another couple.
Michael
and I shook hands, Victoria gave me a polite hug, and the foursome
left to claim the back section for Victoria's Circle of
Friends. Victoria
returned and stood beside me. Now that Michael was
busy guarding her special section, Victoria was free to ask the burning question. "Where's
your girlfriend?"
"Funny you
should ask. Patricia has gone rogue. She's still
pouting over the private lesson issue. She may not
even be here tonight."
"I doubt
that," Victoria replied, "but I'm not worried." Victoria took my
hand and squeezed it. "Rick, I am so excited about tonight!"
I turned to face
her. "Victoria, before we get too busy, I want to say you have
done something amazing. This party is shaping up to be
a sensation. I owe you my gratitude
and I speak on behalf of your guests as well.
Through your considerable effort, you are
going to make a lot of people happy tonight. I am very proud
of you."
Victoria beamed
with pleasure. Noting the confidence on
her face, Victoria had every right to feel proud.
Based on the buzz at the studio, I expected at the minimum 200 people from our
program would show up.
However, Victoria had said 'bring a friend' to so
many people for our party at the club, she was certain we
would exceed 300 guests. Sure enough, at the rate people
were arriving, it was likely Victoria would fill the place
to capacity. The
place was already packed and the starting bell was still five
minutes away. There was always a chance the Fire Marshal
might appear, but it was unlikely. I noticed the
manager was ecstatic. As he should be. There was a
long
line of people who had stopped at his membership desk to
make inquiries.
Several times I caught Larry admiring Victoria from afar. Larry was convinced Victoria was the best thing since apple
pie and ice cream. As well he should. Victoria's
Halloween Party had attracted nearly 100 guests. Now
just one month later she would fill the Pistachio to
capacity, 300 guests. Given that people came and went,
we might have had 400 guests total. Victoria was
flat-out amazing.
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Victoria was on fire. As I stood at
the front door greeting people with Victoria beside me, I
was proud of her. Like Larry, I was in awe at
what Victoria had accomplished. I just wished I had
talent equal to hers. Well, why not start practicing?
Whenever Victoria became
occupied in a conversation, I made sure to greet
the next guest with courtesy. To my surprise, one person after another
shook my hand
and thanked me for putting this event together. How
absurd. I was humbled in the knowledge that I was
being given credit for something I could not have done
myself. It had taken
Victoria three months to double my business. Nor
was she done. The positive energy emanating from tonight's event ensured another bonanza
for my upcoming classes in January. Once
upon a time, I sailed upon my very own Magic Carpet.
Lately, however, I felt like I was hitching a ride on Victoria's
Magic Carpet instead.
I was disappointed in myself. However, I
put my self-esteem issues aside and
concentrated on being a good host.
Victoria turned
to me. "Look at all these people!!" Victoria beamed
with pleasure.
Indeed, this party was her grand triumph. "Rick, you thanked me,
so let me thank you.
I could never have accomplished this if you had not provided
me with the opportunity. I cannot believe I
have finally found a place where I can contribute again.
Tonight is a dream come true."
I appreciated
Victoria's modesty. This was her crowning
moment. I certainly could never have done
this myself. Nor did I know anyone else who could have done
this. Victoria was special, one of a
kind. She was Victoria Sunshine, the Golden Girl.
Victoria didn't seem
to mind that I was getting rich
off her efforts. She kept repeating this was the most fun
she had enjoyed in years.
Victoria
was particularly happy about our private dance
lesson with Glen this morning. Victoria was certain the day would come when we would perform
together. Well aware that Victoria gets what
Victoria wants, I assumed I would be seeing a lot of
her next year.
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SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1978, the disco years
MANHUNTER
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The Western does not begin
till the villain
appears. Or so they say. Just then I heard a screech of tires
outside. I did not even have to look. I just
knew. However, I was curious, so I peeked just in time
to see
Patricia's fancy sports car
come to a sharp halt. As she got
out of the car, Patricia displayed long legs barely covered by a
short red dress. The valet took note of those legs and
smiled appreciatively. Dressed
for a night of hunting men, her specialty, Patricia was
the best-looking villain I had ever seen.
Victoria
instantly went on
alert.
Born for the Disco World of style and glamour, Victoria fully expected to be crowned the Supreme Diva of Disco.
And why not? Look at all these
people! Look at what she had created! There was nothing
stopping her.
Nothing, that is,
except perhaps the Princess. Knowing full
well Patricia craved the limelight,
Victoria's crown was not assured until she demonstrated
superiority in tonight's head to head battle.
Victoria was not worried. She was the most popular
woman in the building. She was also a far superior dancer.
Even better, she had me at her side to validate her
prominence. Victoria was practically drooling at the chance to put Patricia in her place.
Once upon a time
I had hoped the women could be friends. Not any more. Forced to choose, my loyalty was with
Victoria. I was fed up with Patricia for a long list of
reasons. How about Thanksgiving? What about her
temper tantrum over my private lesson with Victoria? Ever
since I met Candace Gray, I saw Patricia for who she was, a
cold-hearted, insensitive bitch. A Princess to be sure,
but then Marie Antoinette had been a Princess too. Let
them eat cake. Nor had I forgotten last night's treachery.
Unless I was badly mistaken,
Patricia was pure Jezebel, a morally challenged liar.
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I was curious about
something. Watching Patricia hand her
keys to the valet, I watched to see how
well the man did with her car. To my profound irritation, the
valet handled the car a lot better than I had at Thanksgiving.
I frowned at how easy it was to drive that car when the
pressure was off. My problems with her sports car became
the symbol of Patricia's debilitating effect on me.
Delilah, Jezebel, Medusa, Mata Hari. And of course
Vanessa. What other evil woman could I think of to
describe how I felt about Patricia?
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When Patricia
stopped to
check her red dress in the front door reflection, I
assumed she had not seen
me yet. Patricia was dressed to kill, a sure sign that
someone was sure to lose a heart tonight. I felt pity
for the poor soul. Seeing her prepare to walk the Red Carpet alone,
this confirmed her lone wolf
strategy. Feeling discarded, my darkness produced a
surge of anger very close to hatred. Patricia's upcoming manhunt
might have been vaguely humorous if it was not being done
before my very eyes.
Patricia's expensive dress told Victoria
everything she needed to know.
Striding confidently through the door,
Patricia's first
move was to ignore
Victoria. She deliberately walked
past Victoria and came directly to me. Determined to
make a huge show of
affection, she grabbed my face with both hands and planted a loud,
lipstick-smearing kiss on my lips. Was Patricia marking her
territory or was this the Kiss of Death?
Patricia turned to
Victoria. Wrapping her arm in mine, Patricia smiled...
He's mine.
Victoria got the
message, but did not let it show. Speaking
pleasantly, Victoria said, "Hello, Patricia, don't you look lovely tonight? Welcome to
my party."
Patricia said politely, "Why, thank you, Victoria, you look very nice as
well. I have been looking
forward to this event. Thank you for all your effort to
put this party together."
Victoria nodded and
smiled faintly, no
doubt aware of Patricia's fake sincerity. With the
niceties out of the way, the women eyed each other
with their game face on.
Hair, makeup, dress, jewelry, figure. The tension was palpable. For a moment I thought the claws
were ready to come out. However, Patricia abruptly disengaged and
turned to face me. "Rick, will you come with me? We
need to talk."
"Patricia," I said, "I
have a better idea. Why don't you help us greet the guests?"
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Seeing Victoria
shoot a look of displeasure at me, I realized I had made a
mistake. Victoria wanted Patricia out of sight.
Patricia caught it too and smiled.
However, she turned down the invitation. "Ordinarily I
would help, but I'm exhausted from my project at work.
Besides, you and Victoria are capable of handling this without
me. I think I will
find a comfortable seat and have a drink."
I frowned.
Whatever Patricia was up to last night was a more likely
source of her exhaustion. I was tempted to ask
what time she got home, but thought better of it. My
dark thoughts were reinforced by Patricia's decision to avoid
standing at my side. It was still early, so Patricia
had her choice of locations. Patricia took a victory
stroll around the dance floor, paused to say hello to Michael in
the back, then
returned to find a couch near the entrance where she could watch
the door for potential victims. Seated in a prominent location,
every guest was sure to see her as they walked past.
No doubt a price tag was attached to the dress somewhere.
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The Princess
knew what she was doing. She
crossed her legs in a way that dared men to look, especially
with that short dress. Then she sat back in a
distinctly inviting way and donned the hint of a smile. Patricia was quite the show stopper.
Every man made sure to slow down as he passed by to admire
her. Patricia paid no attention. She had yet to
see a man who could afford her.
As thrones go, Patricia had chosen well. In this commanding
post, Patricia
offered a tantalizing taste of her Trophy value. Any man who
spotted her alone on that couch would assume she was
available for conversation. I assumed she was auditioning for
her next conquest. Looking like she did, it probably would
not
take long.
Sure enough, just then a man stopped to
talk. Patricia liked
what she saw and smiled back at him. Instantly every
one of my nerve endings
screamed "Leave her alone! She's mine!"
With my sense of possessiveness badly out of control, I felt
completely helpless. The only way I could break free of
the Venus Effect was to not look. No such luck. I
could not seem to pull my eyes away. I stared at
Patricia with all the yearning that comes from addiction. I
knew I had to let her go, but it was so difficult knowing she
had once been mine. For that matter, she could still
be mine. But was she worth the fight? My mind
said no, my love-sick heart said yes.
Unable to stop
watching out of morbid curiosity, I wondered if Patricia had
called off the expected
showdown with Victoria. It seemed that way. By leaving my
side at the welcome point, Patricia had vacated any
claim to me. Her absence allowed Victoria to cement her case as
the Supreme Diva without a challenge. I had
expected Patricia to put up at least some fight, but guessed
wrong. Deciding it was
impossible to upstage Victoria, Patricia would settle instead
for a satisfying evening of Man Hunting. As the sounds of
her laughter reached me, she was off to a good start.
|
I had my doubts about Patricia. Where
did she
disappear to last night? Why did she prefer to sit
alone rather than stand by my side? I knew full well
that Patricia was evil, so why was I so jealous? Why won't
my heart listen to reason? I was
consumed with the desire to go over
and claim my woman. My jealousy was ablaze, but I somehow
managed to hold my ground and avoid making a fool of myself.
I was furious
with myself. What is wrong
with me!?! Attachment is a funny thing. You
can't automatically turn it off. I knew full well this woman
was bad for me, but I could not seem to stop yearning. A huge debate erupted in my mind. My possessiveness screamed at me to go
claim her, but it was counteracted by the rage I felt at Patricia's likely
betrayal last night. That rage reinforced my
resolve to stand firm. Let her do what she wants.
Easier said than done. The next time I looked, now her
suitor was sitting
next to her on the couch. They were laughing about something and my jealousy
approached bonfire. Two more
men sauntered over to form an impromptu entertainment committee.
Now that Patricia had gathered an entourage, my blue eyes turned green.
I was very angry with myself. I had made a firm decision to cut her loose,
but was on the verge of changing my mind. As always, Patricia
kept the upper hand.
This night was not going well for me.
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The Princess
generated considerable interest as she held court.
Every passing moment confirmed my suspicion that Patricia
was on the prowl. My spirits plummeted as the men
appraised her value for the coming auction. How much
should they bid? Patricia could care less about my
feelings. I noticed her smirk of satisfaction when she
noticed me watching. Damn that woman! Totally
uninterested in dancing, Patricia preferred to hunt for men.
This was something she was good at it. After
all, she was the most desirable woman at the party.
Watching the men swarm, I had a vision of Scarlett O'Hara
with men
fawning for her attention.
Fiddle-dee-dee indeed.
I felt sick inside. This was a woman who
had repeatedly humiliated me. There
was also a distinct possibility she had been unfaithful last
night. And now she was punishing me over the private
lesson issue I
considered petty. And yet no matter how much I disliked her, no
matter how deep her evil streak, I was hopelessly jealous. I had come here
to jettison Patricia, but instead I turned
to mush due to my possessive streak. It aggravated me no end to watch her search for my replacement. Then it occurred to me I had planned to do the same
thing. Only one problem... Patricia was better at this than
me. She had definitely turned the tables.
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SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1978
THE SUPREME DIVA
OF DISCO
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One by one, the
various members of Victoria's Circle of Friends arrived.
Rather than point them to their usual spot, Victoria wrapped
her arm around her friends and personally escorted them to
the
reserved section of tables.
In so doing, Victoria made sure to take one friend after
another past Patricia and her three admirers. With each trip,
Victoria made sure say something snide like, "Gee,
Patricia, why are you sitting there? Why don't you come join
our group." Or "Why don't ask one your new
friends to dance?"
Victoria
was never ugly. With each passing, she would look at the Princess and her entourage and
smile sweetly. And of course each time Patricia and
Victoria locked eyes. Patricia might have 3 admirers,
but Victoria had 300. Each trip to the back reinforced
Victoria's message.
While Patricia was
collecting a smattering of smitten suitors, Victoria had an
entire army of admirers.
As it stood, isolated like this, Patricia didn't hold a
candle to Victoria.
By making herself a free agent, Patricia had
conceded the night to Victoria. Now that a crowd had
formed, the late arrivals did not even notice Patricia as she sat
hidden away with a couple of men surrounding her. Patricia
had been eclipsed. Advantage Victoria.
|
When we were 30
minutes into the party, the flow of arrivals began to abate.
Just then one of Victoria's girlfriends entered carrying a dress
bag. Victoria turned to ask if I could hold down the fort.
I nodded yes and Victoria disappeared.
While Victoria
was gone,
I stood
there alone crippled by dark thoughts and emotions.
Watching Patricia cast her spell, her dismissal hurt like hell. Lost
in my thoughts, just then I noticed
Michael walk by. He was taking that same dress bag to
the car. Moments later Victoria returned wearing a
sparkly Disco dress. She looked very pleased with
herself
now that she was wearing a fancy dress equivalent to
Patricia's flaming outfit.
I smiled in
appreciation.
"What is this about?"
Victoria
laughed. "Oh, I was so busy today I forgot to pick up
my special dress at the cleaners. Fortunately Sally
said she would swing by and bring it to the party."
Now that she had
her new dress on, Victoria was emboldened to have some fun of her
own. Noticing that I was paying far too much attention to
Patricia, Victoria
decided to give the Princess a
taste of her own medicine. Recalling how Patricia had
started the evening by wrapping her arm in mine, Victoria
copied the maneuver. After placing her arm inside of
mine, she walked me over to some students standing near Patricia for a
chat. When Patricia looked up, Victoria made sure to
wave. The gesture was priceless, a non-verbal "Yo
Paticia, look who I've got!" It was a bold move
and it worked. When Patricia glowered, then quickly looked
away, I realized Victoria had gotten under her skin.
Oh, the
games people play. The look of anger on Patricia's
face was just what I needed to regain my composure. At
that moment I was eternally grateful to Victoria for
rescuing my flagging self-esteem. Victoria had just
reminded her rival who the real prize was at this party.
Her bold move rankled Patricia no end.
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Although Patricia was
a skilled manhunter, Victoria was no slouch
in the man department. Men buzzed around Victoria all
night long. So what was the
current score? Patricia was kicking field goals while
Victoria ran for touchdowns. Depending on one's
preference for blondes versus brunettes, Patricia might have
a slight edge in the looks department, but
Victoria had a wide edge in warmth, popularity, and
personality. Plus she had me. Victoria was the
Supreme Diva of Disco while Patricia dwelt
in anonymity. Pursuing her lone wolf strategy,
Patricia would be noticed, but she would never be the center
of attention. With her challenger isolated on a couch, Victoria ruled the empire.
I had never seen
Victoria look so proud of herself. Victoria
was definitely no stranger to catfights. In fact, I
think she relished them. By embracing me, Victoria knew exactly how to get Patricia's
goat. Another example was this greeting line. As Victoria and I shared greeting duties at the door,
we welcomed countless guests and thanked them for coming.
All visibility went straight to Victoria as hostess
of this huge event. It was impressive to watch
Victoria use her superior position to
outflank Patricia.
Meanwhile Patricia was
surrounded by a coterie of anonymous men who were meaningless to her.
Victoria was getting all the attention by a 100 to 1
ratio. Seeing the look on Patricia's face as one
well-wisher after another hugged Victoria, she
did not like being reduced to a sideshow.
It was her own
fault. I had invited Patricia to get involved in the
greeting line, but she had dismissed the idea. Too late now.
Either greeting people was
beneath her or perhaps she lacked the warmth to bother.
Patricia held her own in the early moments of the party,
but the endless stream of admirers who flocked to Victoria had left
her in the shadows. The place was getting so busy, it took
an effort just to see Patricia. The crowd had reduced
the effectiveness of her perch. Those long bare legs
could only be seen by random passers. Just then the crowd parted
enough to glimpse Patricia staring directly at me.
I think she was upset over how Victoria used me to hold
center stage. With the two of us greeting an endless
throng of guests, Victoria positively glowed from all the attention.
Excusing herself
from her entertainment committee,
Patricia
stood up to get a better look at me. Catching my eye, she gestured for me to come over.
Curious, I cooperated. The first words out of her mouth were pure
spite.
"Who does
Victoria think she is? She acts like she owns the
place... [pause]... and she acts like she owns
you too."
"Patricia,
this is Victoria's party. Victoria organized it.
That gives her the right to do whatever she wishes. If
she wants to claim me as her escort, she has earned that
right as well. Besides, you are the one who refused to
stand by me."
Patricia gave me
a 'go to
hell' look for sticking up for Victoria. I didn't
care. I figured we were done with, so what difference
did it make? Tiring of Patricia's
complaints, I returned to Victoria's side. Feeling
perverse, I briefly
put my hand on her shoulder just to rub it in
some more. Victoria responded by looping her arm
inside of mine again. I smiled at the gesture.
Victoria seemed to understand that I needed help coping with
Patricia. The Princess could rope an army of men, but
with Victoria by my side, I stood tall.
I was very relieved to see my fortunes improve. I had
been
the clear loser when Patricia abandoned
me. However, now that
the most powerful woman in the room had placed a bid on me,
the tables were turned. I felt so much better
now that I knew Patricia was unhappy. Not only that, thanks to Victoria, Patricia was
suddenly interested in me again. Amazing
how that works. You always want what you can't have. I marveled at how Victoria had elevated my status.
Patricia was clearly upset. The sight of
seeing Victoria bask in triumph upset Patricia so much
she was unable to concentrate on flirting. I grinned
at her discomfort. The poor dear. That nasty frown was certain to
lower her price tag. It might even curtail the quality of her prospects. Served her
right. Victoria noticed
the same thing. She noticed Patricia's fiery glance aimed at
both of us. Knowing full well Patricia was
watching, she beckoned to me and glanced in Patricia's direction. Knowing she had
Patricia's full attention, she began whispering.
"What is
Patricia's problem? Why doesn't she come over here and
join us? Can't she at least stand here and say hello
to people? How much skill does that take?"
Victoria was deliberately using me to punish Patricia.
Pleased to infuriate her helpless opponent,
Victoria chose that moment to beckon for Patricia to join us.
Patricia did not respond. Instead she turned her back
to talk to one of the men. Either she still cared about me or more likely she could not stand
letting Victoria win. Back when I was feeling insecure,
flirting with other men was great fun. But now
that the
shoe was on the other foot, Patricia was a sore loser. On
instinct, Victoria decided to press her advantage. She
began holding my hand as we greeted
more
guests together. Although this gesture made me uncomfortable,
I cooperated because I enjoyed participating in
Patricia's humiliation. Victoria kept
hold of my hand for a long minute. Then without
warning, Victoria let go and whirled abruptly to
see if
Patricia was still watching. Patricia quickly
turned her head in another direction, but it was too late.
Gotcha. Victoria waited
for Patricia's inevitable gaze to return. As the women's eyes locked,
Patricia stood up and put her hands on her hips in defiance.
Victoria did the same. It was amazing to see this
intense stare-down. I could not help but visualize two
gunfighters preparing to draw.
I was not the
only one watching. The hostility between the Dueling Divas of Disco
was so apparent, it drew a crowd of onlookers.
I could see
it was going to be a long night at Vanity Fair.
The
French court of Marie Antoinette could not have been more treacherous.
Would someone lose their head to the
guillotine? Feeling distinctly uncomfortable at being
caught in the middle,
when Victoria was not looking, I vacated the scene to avoid
getting caught in further crossfire.
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SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1978
guess who?
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Leaving Patricia and
Victoria alone to play their mind games, I decided this would be a good time to
look for a new girlfriend. I said hello to friends and
students as I
made a circle around the dance floor. When I got to
the far back, to my surprise,
I spotted my friend Joanne.
She was
sitting alone
in a far corner. Where did she
come from? Joanne must have entered when I briefly
went over to speak to Patricia. Pleased to see her,
I went to sit down at her table. I knew this
corner well. This was the same spot where Janie had shown
me her moves to the Aggie Jitterbug eight months ago.
It was also the place where Patricia had taken me to scream
about Victoria at the Halloween Party.
Joanne was here
tonight because I had given her an invitation last Monday.
However, I had not expected her to come. Joanne had said
she wasn't sure she could make it.
"Why not??"
I asked.
"I've
never been to the Pistachio
Club. I don't even know how to find it."
I rolled my
eyes. Good grief. I reassured her the club was close to Westheimer.
I drew her a simple map consisting of two lines. Take Westheimer,
turn left at Post Oak, go two blocks. Joanne looked at the map
and frowned deeply. Joanne said she would
think about it, but given her usual negativity I figured she
was a lost cause. Apparently I guessed wrong.
As I sat with
Joanne, I beckoned to the waitress to bring us both a drink.
Then I turned my attention to Joanne. "So what made
you change your mind?"
"Oh, I'm
still mad at that woman at Ciao's who sent
me packing. I want to dance so much, but now I have to find a new spot. This place seemed like my best
bet. You were right.
The Pistachio
Club wasn't that hard to
find."
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I was very
glad to see Joanne. This was the first
time she had ever come out to dance with our group. I
was pleased that she had found this place, but now she was hiding in the corner all by herself.
How would I ever get her involved at this rate?
From what I knew of Joanne, she was the proverbial loner. Back at the dance studio, I
rarely saw her make small talk with the students. Usually the
only time she ever said anything was to answer a question.
Joanne had to be the quietest woman I had ever met.
Loneliest too.
Joanne was
very pretty, or
at least she could be. Unfortunately she came across as plain due to her lack of
confidence. Some color would have helped, but Joanne
never wore make-up at the studio. I don't
think she could afford it. Joanne was so poor she
did
not even have a home phone. What single girl does not have
a phone at home? A smile would
have helped, but
Joanne did not smile
very often.
Mostly she frowned, chewed gum and said little.
Joanne ached for attention, but lacked the verbal skills and
the confidence to
make friends in my Monday dance class. Due to her moody nature, Joanne
was unable to soften that hard look of
hers. Trust me, that perpetual scowl was not terribly inviting. Men
told me in class they were afraid to ask her to
talk with her because she seemed so unapproachable. Hence the Ice
Queen reputation. This was
pathetic. Joanne was afraid of her own shadow, but to
the outside world she looked aloof, superior and smug. Nothing
could be further from the truth. Mostly she was scared
to death of people thinking she was ignorant. Weren't
we a pair? I was overly sensitive about my scars and
Joanne was overly sensitive about her lack of education.I took a long
look at Joanne. She looked good tonight, better than I
had ever seen her. I realized
this was the first time I had ever seen her wear make-up,
lipstick and all, so
I complimented her. Joanne smiled, but her smile
quickly faded.
With a blank face
and nothing to say, she sat there
chewing gum
and watching the dancers.
I asked
Joanne if she had danced yet and she frowned even more.
"No
one's asked me."
Gee whiz, is anybody
beside Victoria happy tonight?
I wanted to tell Joanne to try smiling and see if that worked,
but thought better of it. I wanted to tell her to stand up and walk
around, smile at the first guy who caught her eye. One look at this girl's figure was all it
would take to change her fortunes. Instead Joanne
stayed glued to her seat.
Joanne inhabited a world of gloom. I guess that's how
I would feel too if I didn't have a friend in the world.
I swear she reminded me so much of those days when I hit
Rock Bottom after Colorado State. Recalling my own
pain, I remembered how hard it had been to get going again. How was I ever going to get Joanne to take a risk?
I thought about
asking her to dance, but hesitated. Knowing Victoria
would surely kill me for disloyalty, my fear of the guillotine was a powerful
deterrent. Although Joanne
and I had practiced every Monday for the past three
months, I had
never danced with her in public. I had been
trying to get Joanne to come here on Friday nights so we could dance,
but no luck. Joanne
said she preferred to go to Ciao, the Disco near her
apartment. However, now that Ciao had gone private
membership, Ciao's loss was Pistachio's gain. Obviously driving here
tonight was a big step for her. Joanne's small world
had just grown two blocks larger.
Trying to make
conversation, I asked, "Did you have
any trouble finding the place?"
Joanne shook her
head. "No, your map worked fine. I don't
know why I thought it would be so difficult to find this place."
"Well, I'm glad
you came."
Joanne just shrugged.
|
As we spoke,
Turn the Beat Around came on. This was my favorite song. I looked at Joanne,
then looked at the floor.
The party was still warming up, so the large floor
wasn't particularly crowded. Seeing the floor was only
half-full, this would be the perfect time to
dance together, maybe get the dance energy going. To
heck with Victoria, I was my own man. On the spur of
the moment, I stuck out my hand.
"C'mon,
Joanne, let's dance!"
Joanne
immediately cheered up. She sprang out of her chair, gave me her hand and
let me guide her to the
floor.
The
moment her feet hit the floor,
Joanne underwent a fascinating transformation.
Joanne was Disco's answer to Clark Kent.
Shy and mousy to the world, Joanne's disguise vanished the
instant she entered the dance floor. The moment we
started to dance,
Joanne used her superpower to become the most dynamic woman
at the Pistachio Club.
Seeing us dance,
we were so impressive that the floor immediately cleared. I was stunned
by
the change in Joanne's face.
Emboldened to be on a stage where she felt confident, Joanne
was not remotely the
same person.
Her
dancing
was phenomenal. I had known for
a long time that Joanne was good, but I never
realized she was 'this good'. Not just that,
Joanne was pretty damn sexy in the way she moved. I
had never seen this side of her, but I liked it.
Joanne
was fabulous at
spins. No woman was
her equal when it came to turning.
Joanne possessed wonderful long
legs. During the multiple spins, her dress flared up to reveal
their beautiful shape. It was like ice skating where spectators are mesmerized by
a woman's stunning legs as she twirls. Judging by the
faces of Joanne's male admirers at the railing, her long
legs had quite an effect on them.
Joanne never got dizzy. 10 turns in a row, 15 in a row, it
didn't matter. At the end of the spins, to the
gasp of onlookers I suddenly dropped her into the Death Dip. Once
the crowd realized Joanne was not hurt by the dramatic move, they
applauded.
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Now I switched
to the acrobatic moves Joanne and I practiced every Monday evening.
Joanne should have been a gymnast. She knew my moves and
trusted me. The woman was fearless as I lifted her above my head or dropped her
into a sudden fall. In no time at all, the entire room was electrified. Joanne had
the crowd clapping and cheering wildly at her courage and skill.
The most amazing thing
came
when Joanne began to smile. Joanne never smiled! But tonight
her face broke in the biggest grin I had ever seen from her.
Joanne was a natural who was born to perform. It was like an instinct.
Now that she was in her element, we put on quite a show.
This was what the guests had hoped for... Disco Partner Dancing at its finest. Ironically it was a complete accident. Our
spontaneous performance was a complete surprise to me. However, our skill
was no
accident. After all, Joanne and I had practiced every Monday night since
early September.
I was
pleased to see the floor clear. It was an honor to
receive the same kind of adulation my dance teacher Glen had
received with Paula Abbott back in November on this same floor. I was hardly in Glen's league, but since he was not
here for comparison, I looked pretty good. I was proud of myself. This
unexpected
performance had given me a chance to step out from Victoria's
overwhelming presence as well as Patricia's hostile dismissal.
This was my party too. It
felt good to show the guests what I could do.
However, the
real star was Joanne. The Ice Queen had stolen the
show.
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