MAY 1979, the disco years
judging the
beauty contest
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After I left Michael
and Victoria's house, I was incredulous. I could not
believe
Patricia had the nerve
to go Scorched Earth. What a stupid stunt to pull.
Does this woman have no shame? Victoria might be a bitch
who gave Patricia fits, but that was no reason to
destroy the woman's marriage. Yes, Victoria had been out
of control last Friday, but what Patricia had done was far
worse.
Women behaving badly... gee, maybe I should
write a book. Whaddya think? I knew that Patricia
no longer cared about me. Or maybe she did. If so,
she sure had a
lousy way of showing it.
If Patricia
couldn't have me, then she didn't want Victoria to have me
either. So she decided to blow the whistle. Patricia
wanted to ensure Victoria's flirtation with me would cost her
mightily, so why not
hit the Supreme Diva of Disco where she was the most vulnerable? Patricia
figured Victoria's husband would throw a fit. At the very least
her phone call would fan the
seeds of doubt. Fortunately for Victoria, Patricia's
Scorched Earth ploy failed thanks to my rescue effort.
They say all's fair
in love and war. In Patricia's mind, Victoria had gone too
far. Patricia was certain Victoria had cheated to win the
Crown.
Patricia could not prove anything, but her instincts said
Victoria was responsible for the humiliating ostracism at
Pistachio. Her pride was so badly wounded that Patricia
felt compelled to play even dirtier than Victoria. And so she
escalated the evil.
I did not approve of
either woman's behavior. Personally, I wished I could get
rid of both of them. At this point I figured
I knew enough to run the studio just fine if Victoria took off.
The only problem was getting her to leave without destroying the
studio in the process. Hmm.
With that, a very dark smile crossed my face.
Gosh, what a shame I had told Michael the truth. One little
fib in the right place and I could have gotten rid of Victoria
permanently. Too bad I had a decent streak.
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I
still considered myself a nice
guy at heart. However, lately I was
starting to develop a mean streak of my own. As
it stood, my reward for being the love interest
of three beautiful women was a recurring bitch
and moan sound track. Now
I understood why Zeus told Hera, Aphrodite and
Athena to take a hike and go see Paris instead.
Zeus was tired of listening to their crap.
I
could also relate to Helen of Troy. This Trophy
situation wasn't nearly as much fun as it was
cracked up to be. These women
didn't care about me. They just wanted me
to judge their stupid Beauty Contest.
However, if Zeus, the mightiest Greek God, couldn't
handle three women, what chance did I have? Over
the past few months, I had seen more tears and
more tantrums than I ever thought
possible. I tried to care about their
pain, but it was getting harder. I could
feel my well of sympathy dry up faster than a
raindrop in Death Valley.
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FRIDAY, MAY 4, 1979
rick reunites with Godzilla
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When I got home,
Victoria had left a message thanking me. Victoria added
that Michael had asked her to stay home Friday night and patch things up.
Awesome! No
Patricia, no Victoria. Maybe Camelot would be fun
again. What a nice thought. I could hardly wait to see what sweet girl I could find at Camelot
tonight to
replace Patricia.
When I awoke Friday
morning, I
expected things to ease up. I was finished with
the cheating shrew. Good riddance. No doubt Victoria
was breathing a sigh of relief as well. That's when the
phone rang. I was so tense from last night I nearly jumped
out of my skin. I almost said, "Good morning, Victoria."
Good thing I didn't.
It was Patricia. Damn it!
Patricia was the absolute last person on earth I wanted to talk
to. So naturally I talked to her. After all, humans
have a knack for doing the exact things that are worst for them.
Wouldn't you agree with that? Just look at me. I was the perfect example.
But, hey, I was curious! As a student of human behavior,
Patricia never ceased to amaze me. Patricia was more evil
than your average person,
but she was also incredibly interesting. Let's
see what she has to say about last night's Bob and Michael
Stunt. Besides, I will let you in on a secret.
I was really tickled over what Patricia had done to Victoria
(but don't tell Victoria!) Thanks to dropping the
bomb, I fully expected Victoria to resume behaving.
"What's up,
Patricia?"
"I guess you
already know I blew the whistle on Victoria."
"Yeah, a little
birdie told me. Why are you calling?"
"Michael told me
to."
I laughed in spite
of myself. Michael??
"Why would Michael do that?"
"I called
Michael at his office this morning to follow up on last
night. I wanted to know what happened after my
call. I was hoping he would tell me it was Quitsville
with Victoria, but no such luck thanks to you, asshole.
The moment Michael asked me who Bob was, I knew you had
rescued the bitch. I told him the truth. Bob is
just a friend from work. He's harmless, by the way [like
hell he is]. Then I asked Michael what
happened after he and I talked last night. Michael
said he was too busy to discuss it. He sounded angry and
told me to call you for the gory details. So here I
am. I want the gory details."
"You were a very bad
girl last night. Are you
calling to repent?"
"Hell no.
I am so fed up with that nasty bitch.
I taught her a lesson. She will never mess with me
again! So tell me what happened after my call."
For the second time
during this call, I smiled. I had never met a more pathetic human being.
Patricia was so self-centered it never crossed her mind I
might have energy on last night's ugly confrontation
with Bob. Patricia had completely ignored the subject.
probably deliberately.
She just wanted to know how much pain she had caused Victoria to
suffer. After my explanation of last night's events,
Patricia was disappointed to find her stunt had failed.
"Well, I am
sorry Victoria didn't get what she deserved, but at least
I scared her to death. Victoria and I are even now. I paid her back. No
doubt she will have all sorts of ugly things to tell her
precious girlfriends at Pistachio tonight."
"Victoria isn't
going to be there. Michael suggested they get a babysitter, go somewhere and do a little talking. If I'm
lucky, he might persuade her to quit the studio. I think
he is feeling many of the same feelings you are. Michael
is not stupid, believe me. He knows there was at least
some truth to what you said. Michael and I are square, but
he's pretty fed up with Victoria."
"You're not
kidding me, are you? Seriously, Victoria isn't going
dancing tonight?"
"That's right."
"Wow, that's a
surprise. I never imagined she would miss her weekly
night of glory for something as trivial as saving her
marriage. Hey, I have a suggestion. Why don't
you come over here for dinner? Let's do the same thing
as Victoria and Michael. Let's see how we get along
when Victoria isn't around to interfere."
To be honest, after
last night's heavy dose of fireworks, that didn't sound like
such a bad idea. Here was the perfect chance to probe the
mind of a cheating woman. How could I possibly turn down a
delicious opportunity like that? Besides, I wasn't really
in the mood to go dancing to begin with, not after last night's
ordeal. My students could live without me for one week, so
I agreed to see Patricia.
Here's the funny
thing. What was I thinking? Victoria was
out of pocket while Joanne and Patricia swore they would never set
foot at Camelot again. The coast was clear! This was
the perfect chance I had been looking for to find a replacement
for Patricia, but instead I found myself curious to hear
Pandora's mea culpa. What the heck is wrong with
me? All I can say in my defense is that when a Goddess
snaps her fingers, weak men jump to do her bidding. I was
darkly fascinated to realize Patricia still had my number.
Mind you, I was not
crawling back. In fact, I had the Upper Hand. Now I
wanted to enjoy it. Call it Taming of the Shrew. A good spanking would be a nice place
to start and proceed from there. As I drove up to her
apartment after dance class,
I was curious to unveil the twisted mind of a
deceitful woman. However, it turned out that Patricia had
a plan of her own. Patricia crawled all over me the moment
I walked in the door. Moments later we were in bed.
Normally Patricia was on the reserved side sexually, but I think
she had a lot of pent-up frustration. So did I. And
so we skipped the expected pre-game discussion of Bob. Nor
was there any spanking. Why bother? Since
Patricia was hell-bent on distracting me, I figured those things
could wait till later.
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Other than a
refrigerator raid or two, Patricia and I spent the next
sixteen hours in bed. After a day or so, Patricia
assumed she had softened me up enough to bring up the
touchy subject.
Patricia began by swearing
nothing had happened with Bob.
'Bob was
simply walking me to the door and...'
I put my
finger to her lips. Hush. I
pulled her to me and resumed where we had left off.
Something similar had happened with Vanessa many years
ago. By channeling my excessive aggression towards
Vanessa into passion, I had the best sex in
memory. Now history had repeated itself.
Patricia
knew exactly where I was coming from, but didn't seem to
mind. Patricia had been a Bad Girl, so she let me
have my way with her. She was just glad it was her
on the receiving end and not Victoria. Patricia
had reclaimed her Trophy.
I have no
idea what came over me. This was not what I had
planned on. I suppose variations of our weekend
Passion Play have been going on ever since Temptation
was introduced to the Garden of Eden, but my behavior
made little sense to me.
Sometimes
Love...
or whatever this was... doesn't have to make
sense. Our mutual frustration served as quite the
aphrodisiac. So I enjoyed
it. Thus my
relationship with Patricia continued. So I have a
question. How many of you are expecting a happy ending?
Better put on your seat belts.
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THE CARELESS ATTITUDE revisited
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My
indifferent reaction to Bob was a good example of my growing cynicism.
What
would be the point of engaging Patricia in a candid talk about Bob? Plain and simple, Patricia
was lying. I had distinctly seen the man walk through the door
behind Patricia.
The relaxed ease with which Bob entered her apartment spoke
volumes as did his confident smile. And then there was his
effortless flip of the light switch. This man was familiar
with Patricia's apartment for a simple reason. Bob had been here
before.
There was also the
matter of
Patricia's laughter. It was her
laughter in the parking lot below that had tipped me off.
I had heard that laughter before. It meant Patricia
was in the mood for love. For some reason, I was not
surprised. By my count, this was third incident I knew
of to suggest Patricia
had been unfaithful to me. I recalled her message about 'working
late' on the night before Victoria's Christmas Party.
I did not believe
for a moment Patricia was working this late, so I decided to
check.
When there was no answer at work at
10 pm,
I drove to her apartment
at 10:30 pm. After
standing at the door for ten minutes, I decided it was
beneath my dignity to wait any longer. A phone call to
her apartment at 11:30 pm went to answering machine.
Rather than confront her, I stored the memory away to await
further confirmation. It didn't take long. The
George Bombshell came at the end of the month.
Now there was Bob, a man who was clearly
no stranger to Patricia's apartment. Certain
that Patricia
was guilty, I had no desire to listen to
some ridiculous explanation. Why bother?
If I still
cared about Patricia, who knows, maybe I would have raked her over the coals with
the
rage of Othello, screaming bloody murder with threats to
strangle her. However that is not my style.
Although I have felt rage on many an occasion, I am not a
violent person. I have never struck a woman nor can I
recall ever threatening to do so. That said, there
have been two or three times when I was tempted.
However, the 'Bob Incident' was not one of them.
I was turning into a bad boy, a tough guy.
If Patricia
wanted to screw around, more power to her. Over these past
months, I had developed a detached, careless attitude that allowed me to
enjoy her company without actually caring what she did behind my
back.
The French
have two great phrases... sans souci and
insouciance. They both translate into 'nonchalance',
i.e. not caring. When it came to a woman who
looked like Patricia, it was hard to believe I had
reached the point where I could share her with Bob,
George and a cast of thousands and not give a shit.
So why stick around? Although Patricia had little long term value
for me, it seemed
a waste to discard a woman who looked liked Venus,
especially given her current insatiable thirst for sex.
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Recalling my
days at the Jet Set Club, I suppose I had reached the
same cold-hearted frame of mind as the wife-swapping husbands.
Let their wives have their fun so the husband could have his fun too. I
recalled how Karen, a married woman, had exercised her option to date me
last summer. Now I felt the same way about
Patricia. Let Patricia have her fun. Patricia wasn't worthy of my love,
but she had great Mistress potential. That reminded me of the
Mistress Book,
the tome that launched my dance career. The
arresting subtitle was unforgettable... "How to get
your very own (Mistress) and keep her on your own terms."
So here I was five
years later. Was I keeping Patricia on my own
terms? At the moment, yes, I suppose that was
exactly what I was doing. And how did I feel about
that? I began to worry about myself. Why
would I bother to keep a cheating woman? Something
had changed in me. Four months of juggling three
women with their constant mood swings and petty
jealousies had turned me cynical. I had learned
two things. One was useful and the other was sad.
My experience with Patricia had shown I could share a woman
sexually if I didn't have strong feelings for her. I
definitely did not have strong feelings for Patricia.
Hmm. Let's change that. I had no romantic feelings
for Patricia. But I definitely felt hostility.
At the same time I was surprised how much I enjoyed
having sex with her all weekend. Best sex since
Joanne and the Dangerous Liaison four months ago.
What is it about frustration and anger that improves
sex?
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I could not
believe what I was doing. I had caught Patricia in
the act, but I never said a word about it. Instead I
pretended like I actually believed her story. My
decision to overlook her cheating ways was the coldest,
most calculating move I had ever made. Due to my
trust issues I could never love her. However,
since it
was to my advantage to keep Patricia around, I could
look the other way.
My lack of
concern seemed to work. All weekend long
Patricia doted on me like I was something special.
I was fascinated. Patricia had behaved the exact
same way after returning from George. What was it
with this woman? The less I cared about her, the
more she cared about me. It was actually kind of
spooky.
So what was
the sad thing? To be
honest, I disliked The Mistress Book.
The author upset me with its advice to
dominate women by treating them as inferiors. I
was never able to accept that premise. I believe
women deserved respect. They had far too much
talent for me to consider myself superior just because I
was bigger and possessed a penis. And yet the more
I treated Patricia as a plaything, it blew my mind to
see her submit to my will. It gave me little
satisfaction to see
Patricia grovel exactly as the book's author
had predicted. Surely this was not true for
all women. I prayed the
day would come when I would meet a woman who had both
talent and
a sense of decency. If so, these nasty
games would not be necessary.
However,
when it came to dealing with a dishonest, amoral,
screwed-up woman like Patricia, I suppose The
Mistress Book was right. It was downright
scary how cooperative she became once I behaved in a
non-possessive, carefree way. One might say I had
become Nonchalant. Even better, I did not need to
'pretend' I did not care. My disgust solved
that problem nicely. Personally, I took no satisfaction
in Patricia's sudden fealty. I disliked her so much, she could do whatever she wanted
and I would be okay. My callous attitude
allowed me to manipulate Patricia guilt-free. I
did not like playing the tough guy, but
I definitely preferred it to getting walked on.
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Catching
Patricia in the act with Bob dramatically shifted the
balance of power. When I first met Patricia, she
had dominated me for two solid months. Then came
George. Then came Bob. For whatever reason,
I now held the Upper Hand... not that I cared...
which in turn probably explains why I held the upper
hand. They say the person who cares less has the
advantage.
To my pleasant surprise, Patricia and
I got along very well for the entire weekend.
Patricia was right. Without Victoria around to
meddle, we made a good couple.
At the end of
our 48-hour weekend of marathon sex, I kissed Patricia
goodbye. It was time to teach my Sunday night
Meyerland Club class with Joanne.
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TUESDAY, MAY 15
LA MADELEINE
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In addition to Patricia, I
felt considerable hostility towards Victoria.
For that reason, I was thoroughly
amused to see Patricia pin the Diva on her
heels during Scorched Earth. By attacking
Victoria's marriage, Patricia had scared the woman to
the Gates of Hell. I had not stopped chuckling
since. Best laugh
in ages. After all the crap Victoria had dished
out to me - and to Joanne, Michael, and Patricia -
it was about time someone knocked the bitch on her
pretty little ass (please pardon my French). Which is
another reason why I voluntarily returned to Patricia.
I offered my presence as reward for putting
Victoria in her place. Let's hear it for Princess Godzilla!
Yes, indeed,
it was good to see Victoria suffer for a change.
Not only that, I came out of this fiasco smelling like
roses. Victoria was indebted to me for saving her
marriage from my pit bull girlfriend and Patricia
was thrilled to survive her Bob indiscretion.
Now that Patricia's evil had restored the
balance of power between Victoria and myself, I
regained the Upper Hand with both women. Patricia
was pretty happy as well. It gave her great
satisfaction to know how irritated
Victoria would be when she learned we were back together.
As such, Victoria's momentary possession of The Trophy was
back in Patricia's hands.
Following Patricia's
Scorched Earth, Victoria was contrite and
unusually quiet. If losing the Trophy back to
Patricia bothered her, she kept it to herself.
Consequently I enjoyed two whole weeks of peace. That changed
abruptly on Tuesday, May 15. The day started
when
Victoria and I met in the morning at Glen's studio for our
regular private lesson. Victoria loved these
lessons. Recently a TV showed titled Dance Fever
had appeared. It featured top-flight couples
competing for prizes. Victoria's eyes
glistened as she shared her dreams of performing and
becoming the Supreme Diva of Disco.
After
our private lesson, we went to La Madeleine for
lunch. Victoria had a present for me.
She handed me a copy of the mailing list. And why was
that? Now that I had the Upper Hand thanks to
preserving her marriage, I reminded Victoria I wanted my own
copy. Victoria had stared at me for a
moment and I just smiled. I guess she got the message.
Amazing what having the Upper Hand does for a person. For the first
time in memory, Victoria and I had resumed a balance of power.
Any crap from her and I would unleash Patricia, the Hound of Baskerville,
Disco-style.
Victoria showed no ill effects following Scorched
Earth. If anything, she doted on me almost as
much as Patricia. I had saved her marriage.
That made me her Knight in Shining
Armor. However, after nearly losing her
marriage, I was surprised to find Victoria's ring was nowhere near as tight on her
finger as it should have been. When she gave me a
big good morning hug, I felt a certain stirring that
made me tremble. Every time Victoria touched
me, my defenses weakened another notch. This
woman was really getting to me.
Right now
Princess Godzilla
was the only deterrent I had to the Blonde Banshee. And
why did I need a deterrent? Was Patricia protecting me
from Victoria? Or was Patricia protecting me from myself?
At the moment it was tough to tell. The problem with
dating a woman like Patricia who means so little is that it
invites a taste for variety. If Patricia can fool around,
why shouldn't I? This was the exact same 'get one free'
attitude that had landed Joanne in my arms five months ago.
Noting I was still trying to extricate myself from the
consequences of that dumb move, one would think I felt a sense of
caution. Nope. My unmistakable desire to take
Victoria in my arms was growing worse by the day. And
she wasn't helping! Not one bit.
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After
Patricia had blown the whistle, for some crazy reason
she turned around and handed me a weekend of wild
sex. Unfortunately, her 'Baby, Come and Get it'
attitude would never make me forget Bob, Bombshell George, Rock Star Rick, Scorched Earth, New Year's Eve, or
Thanksgiving. As long as these hurtful memories
lurked in my mind, there could be no future with
Patricia. And so my mind began to wonder about a
future with Victoria. Yes, there were times when I
absolutely despised Victoria, yet lately we had been
getting along very well. In fact, we had been
getting along too well for my own good. I had
vivid fantasies about seeing Victoria undressed that
were scaring me. I could not seem to get the damn
woman out of my mind.
I think
Victoria was having the same problem. In the dim
candlelight
at
La Madeleine,
Victoria came
oh so close to setting the forest on fire.
Over
too much wine, our
flirting had gone a little too far. Victoria
unexpectedly laid her hand over mine and grasped it.
"Rick,
I am in love with you."
Her touch
was electric. I swallowed hard as the shockwave
hit.
I would have much preferred to keep this subject taboo, but too
late now. Victoria
impulsive move shot right past my virtue and sent my
libido soaring. Instantly aroused, the
intensity of my passion frightened me.
In terror, I
jerked my hand away and recoiled as if I had touched a
burning iron. As waves of Fear, Fever, and Passion ripped through
me,
I was
afraid of losing control. With my
heart pounding and my manhood throbbing,
the temptation to act was overwhelming. Well aware that Victoria
had given permission to strike, my conscience was immobilized
and
my body screamed, "Take her!"
Hot with
desire, the backseat of Victoria's large car in the
parking lot crossed my
mind. For that matter, her home was just blocks
away. My hands were desperate to rip her clothing
off. Crazed by passion, I was ready to throw money on the table, grab Victoria, and head
straight to her car. There would no stopping after
that.
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Teetering on the
edge of a cliff known as the point of no return, I heard a
voice in my mind screaming for attention.
"DON'T DO IT!"
I panicked.
What should I do? I was reeling. Too much wine, too
much desire. Overwhelmed with conflict, I rose and lurched
to the restroom. I had to get a grip and let the wine wear
off. I stayed in there for five long minutes splashing my
face with water. Once I calmed down, I composed myself and
returned to face the dilemma. Victoria was pale as
a ghost. She was badly shaken by my strange response.
"Victoria, I am just
as attracted to you as you are to me. But you are married
and I respect your marriage. This cannot happen. Not
today, not tomorrow, not the next day. I respect your
husband too much to participate in any Affair. You and
I are headed for a Dance with the Devil.
Cheating is not the solution for our mutual attraction.
Our friendship is based on respect. The guilt would ruin our lives."
Victoria sat there
with a poker face. She said nothing, so I continued.
"Whatever we do has
to be upfront. If you tell Michael that you are calling it
quits on your marriage, I will be there for you. You
are welcome to move in with me and let's see. But unless you
leave Michael, no hanky panky. I am serious... no fooling
around."
Thankfully,
Victoria nodded.
She understood her marital status would have to change before we
took things past the Forbidden Line.
We had both let down our guard today and
come much too close to the edge. We were playing with the
Devil's fire with painful
singe marks on our hands to prove it. Next time we might
just go up flames.
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