early APRIL 2001

THE TENSION MOUNTS

Marla moved from Sundays to Mondays in April.  Her decision had nothing to do with me.  She switched to Mondays in order to follow her friends.  The studio offered parallel Beginning, Intermediate, and Advanced Swing classes on Sunday and Monday.  However, 'Zoot Suit Riot', our Super-Advanced Swing class, was only offered on Monday evening. 

I had a hard time containing my disappointment about losing Marla as my student. Fortunately, this was not the end of the road.  As long as Marla was still coming to the studio, I expected to see her in the hallway from time to time.  Now that she had signed up for the cruise, I had an excuse to talk to her about it if the opportunity arose.  Although I was still too insecure to reveal my romantic interest, I continued to watch from afar while carrying my secret torch.

Despite her lack of encouragement, my instinct insisted that Marla was available.  But was I right?  Sometimes 'Intuition' turns out be wishful thinking instead.  That could very well be the case here.  Marla's aloof attitude gave me nothing to hang my hat on.  Nevertheless, over the years I had learned to trust my instinct.  For example, when hiring an instructor I did not know or making a decision on how best to relate to a student, my intuition was usually accurate.  To me, Intuition is a form of Knowing that transcends Reason.  In Marla's case, my instincts told me that she was hiding something.  However, due to my fear of rejection, I was at a loss to know how to get to the bottom of the Marla Mystery without revealing my crush.

ANOTHER INTERVIEW

Marla's decision to sign up for the cruise trip threw me into a tizzy.  I assumed her decision to join indicated problems in her relationship.  However, when I discretely probed for any signs of trouble, Marla failed to take the bait.  According to Marla, her decision to travel alone had nothing to do with Chris.  Only one problem.  My intuition said otherwise.  As a result, I was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of the mystery.  What did my heart know that my brain didn't?  I was dying to simply walk up and ask her what was going on.  Forget that.  Where was I going to find the courage to confront her?  There is, after all, a concept known as 'Mind your own business'.

If Marla skipped a class, I would worry.  Where is Marla?  Is she with Chris?  It really bugged me to be so attached to a woman who barely knew I existed.  I hated being invisible.  If I had a bit of sense, I would quit and move on.  I told myself to forget Marla.  Fat chance of that.  Marla was unforgettable.  But why was she unforgettable?   The only reason I continued to hang in there was my nagging intuition over the Mystery of the missing boyfriend.  As the weeks passed, it seemed more and more suspicious that her boyfriend never came to the studio.  The good thing about having Marla signed up for the cruise was that I had an easy opening to pry.  When I saw her in the hallway before class or at Break time, I made sure to talk to her with information about the cruise or ask a question.  Sooner or later, Chris entered every conversation.  However there was never any enthusiasm in her voice.  Every time we spoke, not once did I sense a strong commitment.  She would say his name, but she never smiled, never exuded a sense of caring.  I tried to remain positive, but I had my doubts.  Back and forth, back and forth.  On my good days, I was certain Marla was bluffing about her boyfriend.  On my bad days, I dismissed my conjecture as wishful thinking. 

I concluded Marla was the type who kept her personal life personal.  As the weeks added up, not once did she hint at any trouble.  Obsessed by the mystery, I was baffled, confused, unsure, perplexed.  Feel free to add your favorite synonym for 'lost at sea'.  My instincts told me her relationship was on the rocks, but I was too scared to confirm this based on a flimsy hunch.  I had always believed if a woman was interested in me, she would help a little.  Not Marla.  She was always friendly towards me, always cordial, but it was 'Formal warmth', the kind of warmth she might reserve for a good customer.  I reluctantly accepted that Marla was not even interested in being a friend.  I was her dance teacher and that was as far as it went.  And so I remained Invisible. 

Why not date other women?  There's always another fish in the sea, correct?  Yeah, but I had yet to meet a woman to match Marla's thunder and lighting.  I was so preoccupied with the mystery surrounding Marla, I was not interested in looking elsewhere until I knew the truth.  Every time Marla showed up at the studio, she came alone.  Finally I couldn't take it anymore.  When Marla showed up for class early one night in April, I decided it was time for another Interview.  During our previous long talk, Marla had mentioned her love of travel.  Marla's previous job as a buyer and clothes designer had taken her to Singapore, Thailand, the Philippines and Hong Kong several times.  Plus she had been to Europe.  So I politely asked what aspect of her job led to so much travel. 

We had a pleasant conversation, but Marla still failed to show any indication of interest.   As usual, I noticed Marla never asked any questions about me.  That was bad enough, but my temper really kicked in at the first mention of Chris.  The moment Marla brought up Chris, I shook my head in despair.  It felt like every time we spoke, Marla would hold up her "Six-Year Sign" to ward me off.  I could not help but think of how garlic was used to ward off Dracula.  Trust me, Marla's Sign was equally effective as Rick Repellant. 

It wasn't like Marla was rejecting me.  Far from it.  Marla was infinitely polite.  But she wasn't 'friendly'.  Feeling like the mountain climber with no toe hold, my frustration boiled over.  Cutting the conversation short, I thanked her, then got up and walked away.  I knew I had been rather curt, but I was tired of getting nowhere.  To hell with it, I quit.

FLASHBACK: 1981

THE WINCHESTER CLUB
 

The hardest thing for a beginning student to do is force themselves to practice.  I knew this from personal experience.  It took me three years to become a competent dancer.  I could have cut this time in half if I had been willing to go to a club and practice what I learned in class.  However, the fear of looking spastic and have some girl laugh at me held back.  Plus I was terrified of rejection.  The thought of approaching some girl I didn't know at a club and asking her to dance was a hill too high to climb.  So I muddled along.

With this memory strong in my mind, at the end of the very first class I ever taught, I persuaded 30 students to go dancing with me at the Rubaiyat on the final night of class.  I figured that would do the trick, but I was wrong.  Although the students dutifully showed up at the club, they were too intimidated to get on the floor or ask each other to join them.  I rolled my eyes, then told them to follow me and we would all do the line dances together.  My invitation got them over the hurdle.  Apparently I was not the only shy beginner in the world, so I decided my job as a teacher was not complete unless I included practice opportunities in the curriculum.  And so in the early days of Disco I made it a habit to invite my students to go dancing with me after class.

This worked well enough during the 1978-1080 Disco Era, but it was piecemeal.  Ten students one night, five students another night.  The crowning moment came in 1981 during Houston's Urban Cowboy Western Era.  I discovered a giant Country-Western honky tonk called the Winchester.  It was right down the street from the studio I had recently moved to.  The floor was so big 300 people could dance at the same time.  The immense size of the floor plus the short drive gave me an idea.  Why not create a "Graduation Night" event at the end of each month?  This was a great idea.  The ingredients were all there... good band, big floor, convenient location.  Here is what made it special.  For the first time ever, Sunday students had a chance to meet and mingle with the Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday students.  Even better, graduates from previous months showed up to join the fun.  Crowds exceeding 100 people were commonplace.  That set the stage for an unexpected secret weapon: Long Tables. 

The Winchester was so big, the far section was empty during weeknights.  When we showed up on Wednesday, it was natural for our entire group to go sit at the Long Tables over in the far section so we could stay together.  This was a sight to see.  One table after another, 16 people per table talking up a storm, getting to know one another.  Our group was so vast we stretched from wall to wall.  People stared in awe.  This was the first time our students ever realized just how large the studio's dance program had become.  I had to laugh.  I knew how big the program was, but it never occurred to me until this moment that I was the only one who knew.  My students were seeing the Big Picture for the very first time and they were impressed.

The benefits were endless.  The knowledge that everyone seated in this section came from the studio made it much easier for a man to ask a lady he did not know to dance.  Better yet, the man and the woman were only strangers once.  The next time he asked, the lady was now a friend.  Thanks to a long night of dancing, the practice paid off.  Not only were the beginners catching on, they were suddenly hooked on dancing.  This motivated them to sign up for next month's class. 

Soon the next stage kicked in.  With so many partners to choose from, countless romances began to flourish.  This led to another development.  As the studio acquired its reputation as an excellent place to find a boyfriend or girlfriend, the word spread about this amazing dance studio.  Even better, a Group Spirit emerged, a 'Be True to Your School' mentality.  Seeing themselves as part of something much bigger, SSQQ had become so special they want to stick around forever.  Which made perfect sense.  The studio was where their friends were.  'Winchester Night' was instrumental in making SSQQ the largest dance studio in Houston.  It was also the birthplace of the studio's amazing Wedding tradition. 

FLASHBACK: LATE NINETIES
 

CUPID'S PLAYGROUND

Four major developments initiated the studio's rapid expansion during the late 90's. 

The first development took place in 1997.  The restaurant next to the studio had more space than it needed.  Would by chance SSQQ be interested in expanding?  Yes, we would.  The acquisition of our new Room 6 allowed me to redesign the studio's layout.  The benefits were enormous.  Our new entrance made it easier to register people.  It allowed me to abandon the old entrance and tear down the hallway to expand Rooms 4 and 5.  As a result, the overall space available for classrooms increased by 33%.  And, to my great delight, Room 6 became the perfect location for a maze made of hanging curtains.  Our new 'Haunted House' became the talk of the town at Halloween. 

A serendipitous coincidence ensued.  Practically the moment the remodeling was done, the Swing Era arrived.  It was soon followed by the Salsa Era.  Without the remodeling, the studio would not have been large enough to accommodate the surge of interest.  The deluge of Swing and Salsa students set incredible new attendance records.   

The 1999 arrival of the studio website and email newsletter allowed me to publish the story of 16 marriages and 10 engagements that took place that year.  This announcement was dynamite because it proved the legends of SSQQ Slow Dance and Romance magic were no longer 'Legend', they were 'Fact'.  Once I let it be it known that SSQQ churned out weddings with the regularity of a Detroit assembly line, the studio lit up like a bonfire. 

The final key to the puzzle was the introduction of Practice Night.  This innovation put the finishing touch on the studio's Slow Dance and Romance reputation by taking full advantage of the three previous developments.  So do I take credit for my amazing foresight?  Absolutely not.  Although the transformation created by Practice Night made perfect sense in hindsight, I never saw it coming. 

Practice Night started as my solution to a thorny problem.  I was frustrated.  My students were not practicing enough.  By the time next week's class rolled around, they complained they had forgotten everything.  Forced to dedicate extra time to review, progress was slow. So why weren't they practicing?  Two reasons.  As I have pointed out, Beginners are notoriously shy about going to a dance club alone.  Another problem was the late night.  Classes ended at 9 pm.  People were tired.  Realizing the time and effort it would take to drive to a club on a weeknight, most students found it easier to head home.  When the students pointed out they had to get up early to go to work, rather than fuss at them, I was sympathetic.  Jobs are important.  Without jobs, how would they pay for dance lessons?  It was in my enlightened self-interest to find a way to make it easier to practice.  Guess what came to mind?  The Winchester Club. 

Unfortunately, the Winchester was long gone and there was no current club in Houston large enough to accommodate my entire program.  That is when I thought of Room One, 2400 square feet.  This room was so large it had once been a bowling alley.  Why not turn Room One into a 'Nightclub' of sorts?  When their class was over, people could just walk down the hall to Room One.  This one-minute trip would eliminate any need for a 15-20 minute drive to a dance club.  Visualizing how the convenience would allow students to practice their patterns while the moves were fresh in their mind, it was definitely worth a try.  I purchased an expensive sound system and installed reduced lighting to create the proper mood.  Unlike some experiments that take time to develop, Practice Night was an instant success.  There were so many advantages.  By turning the studio into a nightclub, each student had built-in partners from their class to practice with.  Even better, they already knew which people they wanted to ask.  The men were thrilled.  This eliminated the awkwardness of asking some stranger at a club to dance, always an intimidating task for veterans as well as beginners.  The women were thrilled.  They hated going to a club by themselves.  Who knows what creep might hit on them? 

SSQQ had six classes per night.  Added together, there were anywhere from 100-200 students on the premises.  Not all of them stayed, but many of them did... especially the singles.  And why was that?  Looking for Love was the name of the game and Room One became their favorite Happy Hunting Ground.  Sunday through Thursday, anywhere from 30-60 students would stick around to practice together.  We had close to 80 on Fridays, a big dance night.  Thrilled by the success of Practice Night, this was the reincarnation of the Winchester Club.  I fondly recalled how Winchester Night once turned SSQQ into the largest dance studio in Houston.  However, Practice Night was far more powerful.  Winchester Night took place once a month, Practice Night took place six nights per week.   The combination of Practice Night plus our regular Saturday Night dance parties became the equivalent of 30 Winchester Nights. 

Practice Night was addictive.  It was an inside joke that I had gotten my students hopelessly hooked on dancing like a narcotic.  Once they discovered how much fun dancing could be, my students liked the rapid progress and wanted to get better.  However, I never imagined the success of Practice Night would led to a sense of Community.  In the old days, let's say 20 random students wanted to practice after class.  They all went hither and yon.  One person went here, two people headed there, etc.  This scattering eliminated any after-class interaction between the 20.  At Practice Night, the same 20 students shared one dance floor with the same faces every week.  Well aware that everyone present was in this boat together, people felt safe asking someone they did not know to dance.  As a result, it became customary to switch partners throughout the evening.  This is how people became friends not just within their class, but now they knew people from the other classes as well.

Practice Night created a seismic shift in the studio's fortunes.  In the space of three years, the number of students taking classes nearly tripled.  The knowledge that everyone in the room was from SSQQ made it so much easier to meet the other students.  Well aware that this person or that person was someone they would see again, no one had their guard up.  A married couple might split up to dance with another married couple.  Married couples split up to dance with singles.  Singles danced with everyone. 

Barriers melted rapidly as people made it a habit to dance with several partners every night.  Friendships formed, Romances as well.  I began to suspect the real reason students took classes month after month was the chance to continue seeing friends they had made in class and at Practice Night.  They claimed they were paying for dance lessons, but secretly they were signing up to continue their warm friendships.  Many students developed a lifestyle that saw them at the studio two, three times a week.  This is how our sense of Community was born. 

What about Love?  Practice Night was an amazing hotbed of romantic activity right from the outset.  A legion of energetic dancers met one new partner after another.  With a wide range of choices, people could pick the one they liked and let the potent dance chemistry go to work.  Countless love affairs were spawned, many of which turned into serious romances.  I watched with secret glee as countless people fell under the spell of the studio's Romantic Magic.  Single people hate to spend a night alone.  They would much rather be out and about on scouting missions.  Take my word for it, they found plenty of prospects at my studio.  In fact, I am convinced the Legend of SSQQ as Houston's best place to find a boyfriend or girlfriend is what propelled the studio to become the largest in the country.

Indeed, during the Millennium year 2000, SSQQ grew so big we could barely fit everyone in the building.  At its peak, my studio saw as many as 1,400 people walk through its doors each week.  Although the growth spurt caused its fair share of headaches, my heart swelled with pride at how amazing the studio had become.  So I asked myself a question.  My studio had been the beneficiary of four amazing developments in a row.  I never asked for Room Six.  It was handed to me.  I never asked for the Swing and Salsa Eras.  The studio had expanded just in time to accommodate this giant influx of students.  I had no idea regarding the value of the SSQQ website and newsletter.  Someone had to talk me into it.  As for Practice Night, yes, that was my idea.  But was it really my idea?  Or was the suggestion placed in my mind from beyond?

What I am getting at is that these events seemed linked.  They unfolded like clockwork so perfectly I wondered if something spooky was going on.  Watching people fall in love right and left, surely the metamorphosis of SSQQ into Cupid's Playground was NOT an accident.  I have hinted at various reasons why I felt the studio's destiny was guided by a higher power.  The lucky breaks that propelled the studio to become largest in the country was a major reason why I felt SSQQ was 'Blessed'. 

THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

What exactly do I mean when I say Slow Dance leads to Romance?  Swing and Salsa dancing are great fun.  However, they do not lend themselves to romantic chemistry quite like the Texas Twostep.  What is the difference?  Swing and Salsa move fast.  Plus they are danced apart most of the time.  Although Swing and Salsa are exciting, I wouldn't call them 'Romantic'.

On the other hand, the slow pace of the Texas Twostep is the closest thing to Love Potion #9 I have ever found.  Dancing slow allows eye contact.  Dancing slow lets a woman enjoy the sensation of being held.  Dancing slow lets a man and a woman have a conversation while they move around the floor.  If the music is right, they might even flirt a little.  And you know what that leads to.  Dancing slow is dangerous.  Dancing slow is dynamite.

However, the Texas Twostep does not usually lead to instant romance.  More often it is a cumulative effect.  One dance per night over a period of months, the attraction builds gradually.  That was the value of Practice Night... it allowed the slow burn to build over time.  Then one night something clicked and suddenly the fireworks began to explode.

Let's say a boy and a girl meet in dance class.  After class, independent of each other they wander down to Practice Night.  Boy recognizes girl from class, boy asks girl to dance, they chat, they become friends.  Next week, same thing.  Boy and girl sign up for next month's class.  The process repeats, the interest grows.  One night it happens.  Boy makes a move.

"Hey, I've enjoyed dancing with you at Practice Night.  Maybe it's time to try the Real World.  Would you like to go Kicker dancing with me this weekend?"

"Sure, I would like that.  Sounds like fun!"

So what was my role in all of this?  Earlier I told the story of how I added up all the 1999 wedding announcements and realized for the first time how prolific the studio was at creating romance and marriages.  I cannot even begin to describe the awe I felt.  To me, the studio was more than a job, it was my mission in life.  Now I felt I had been given a special duty.  Faced with firm evidence that the studio had become Cupid's Playground, I decided to give my cousin a hand.  After all, my last name is Archer, correct?

So what did I do?  I deliberately played a lot of intoxicating Twostep music at Practice Night.  It worked like a charm.  There are children in Houston today who owe their existence to Practice Night and the Texas Twostep.  And how exactly did I learn the power of the Texas Twostep?  Because one night in April the same damn thing happened to me. 

APRIL 2001

LADY ASHLEY

I have confessed to being a nerd.  Not proud of it, but that is the absolute truth.  I never dated in high school.  The rich girls were not interested in me.  I rarely dated in college.  Going to a men's school made it tough to meet women.  Talk about socially awkward.  When it came to women, I was snake bit.  However, age 50, those painful days of yesteryear were long gone. 

I had dance to thank for rescuing me.  I decided to learn to dance after the Mistress Book pointed out the fastest 'polite' way to get a pretty girl in my arms was ask her to dance.  It was a smart move, I recommend it to all single men.  25 years of non-stop dancing with women night after night had taught me a thing or two.  I won't claim to be a smooth operator, but attractive women no longer intimidated me like they once did.  Even with my wings clipped by the divorce, I knew for a fact that any man who knows how to dance will not be lonely for long.  Plus I had the added advantage of overseeing the best place in Houston to find a girlfriend.  One thing about running a dance studio, it was never difficult to meet single women. 

Following the news of my separation, I was undergoing a major dry spell.  In addition to Marla's ongoing disdain, over the past three months the single ladies had kept their distance.  I suppose they wanted to make sure Rick and Judy would not be changing their mind.  However, here in April I noticed the eyes of the wolf pack peeking around the corners.  I even received a smile or two.  However, I ignored them.  Feeling cynical, I was convinced I would never fall in love again.  On the other hand, it would be nice to have some company.  One night in April, that is exactly what happened thanks to a persuasive woman and the Texas Twostep.  Her name was Ashley. 

Lawrence and Ashley signed up for my Beginning Swing class on Sundays in January 2001.  They moved onto Intermediate Swing in February.  In March they signed up for Advanced, the same class Marla joined in progress.  As I have said, the addition of Marla super-charged the energy of the class.  One night in March I taught a difficult move.  When I assumed the men had caught on, I announced it was time to learn something else.  To my surprise, Marla spoke up. 

"Not so fast, Rick!  The men aren't ready to move on.  You need to go over this again."

Everyone froze, including me.  Well, I thought, look who we have here, little Miss Smarty Pants.  Figuring I had everyone on my side, let's have some fun with this.  I turned to address the class.  "You know what, the last time I checked, I thought I was in charge of this class.  Now I'm not quite so sure.  Let me have a show of hands.  Everyone who thinks Marla is in charge, raise your hands."

As any good attorney knows, never ask a question unless you are sure of the answer.  To be honest, I expected to win the vote.  Boy, was I in for a surprise.  When the entire class raised their hands for Marla, I cracked up.  So did everyone else.  They knew I was playing, so their act of defiance was spontaneous and actually quite funny.  The roar of laughter could be heard throughout the building.

I smiled and lowered my head in mock surrender.  "Well," I said, "I guess it's about time I finally learned the truth.  Okay, everyone, let's go over that move again."

When class was over, did Marla drop by to comment?  No.  As usual, Marla was out the door.  However, Ashley dropped by with a big grin.  "Looks like you learned your lesson tonight.  When it comes to dancing, women hold the power.  Men will do whatever it takes to make women happy.  But don't take it the hard way.  The ladies were very proud of you for being a good sport." 

Seeing Marla put me in my place is a good example of how she helped a strong group spirit emerge.  All for one and one for all.  This camaraderie does not take place in every class.  It usually requires a special individual to pump up the volume.  In this case, much of the credit goes to Marla.  The students became so close-knit, they wished to continue on as a group in April.  Unfortunately there was no follow-up Swing class being offered on Sunday.  To move forward, the group decided to transfer to a Monday Swing class known as Zoot Suit Riot.  Once my favorite class switched to Monday evening, I was no longer their teacher.  I missed them.  I also missed Marla. 

There was one exception.  Like the others, Lawrence and Ashley began taking Zoot Suit Riot on Mondays with their friends.  However, Lawrence wanted to learn how dance to Country-Western music as well.  For this reason, he and Ashley signed up for the Sunday Beginning Twostep class in addition to their Monday class.  Although I was not their Country-Western teacher, I made a point to say hi when they stayed for Practice Night.

With classes held in six different rooms, the studio had roughly 150 students on Sunday nights, most of whom were single.  During class, singles in one room speculated about singles in the other five rooms.  Practice Night was the perfect way to indulge their curiosity.  When I walked in on the third Sunday in April, there were 60 or so students waiting for me in Cupid's Playground.  As I walked to the DJ booth to start the music, I noticed Ashley had come alone.  Interesting.  

Ashley was very easy on the eyes.  Tall, blonde and slender, she was a striking woman.  However, since Ashley always came to class alongside her boyfriend Lawrence, she had never been on my romantic radar.  Actually no woman was on my romantic radar.  That spot was reserved for Marla in the off-chance she ever noticed me.  But let's be real.  I wasn't going to wait forever.  Besides, Marla wasn't even around anymore.  I saw her briefly in the hallway on Monday each week, but that was the extent of it.  Marla was a lost cause, I was sure of it.

I had been withdrawn at the studio during the final year of my marriage.  In order to keep social contact to a minimum, I would hide in the DJ booth during Practice Night and play computer chess till the event ended.  Those days were over.  Now that I was single again, the Seesaw had flipped.  Funny how loneliness changes things.  There I was dancing at Practice Night right along with everyone else.

Seeing Ashley sitting by herself, I asked her to dance the Texas Twostep.  When Ashley began dancing closer than necessary, a certain warmth took hold of me.  Chalking this unsettling sensation up to loneliness, I tried to dismiss it as I escorted Ashley back to her chair.  After all, the girl was 'taken'.  I was about to ask another woman when Ashley beckoned to the empty chair beside her.  Curious, I sat down to see what she wanted.

"Rick, is it true you are getting a divorce?"

When I nodded yes, Ashley replied, "That's odd.  So am I.  I guess we have something in common." 

Then she smiled.  Hmm.  Something in her smile caught my eye.  When a woman is interested, they typically send up a smoke signal.  Too bad Marla didn't know that secret.  Or maybe she did, just not where I was concerned.  Ashley was a different story.  Ashley could probably teach an Indian how to send smoke signals.  Sensing where this might be headed, I decided to play along.  We began by discussing the travails of starting over.  Ashley was surprisingly candid about the fact that she was very frustrated with her boyfriend Lawrence.  She was mad at him because they had been dating three months and so far they had not had sex. 

I raised an eyebrow.  I could not recall ever having a conversation quite like this before.  "What's the problem, Ashley?"

"I really like the guy and he knows it.  But I can't figure out what Lawrence is waiting for."

"Have you asked him?"

"No, not really.  I don't want to seem too aggressive.  Lawrence is a nice guy and I don't want to chase him off.  But we've been seeing each other for over three months.  How long does it take?  We've kissed and we're way past the three-date rule.  I can tell he's attracted, so why is he so reluctant?  I hate this wishy-washy stuff, but I don't know Lawrence well enough to be blunt.  I don't want to chase him off by bringing up a touchy subject or being aggressive."

"Maybe Lawrence is dating someone else and prefers not to sleep with two women at once."

Ashley nodded.  "Yeah, that has occurred to me too.  In fact, I think that's probably what the problem is.  Lawrence is old-fashioned, so that makes sense.  I guess Lawrence is taking his sweet time making up his mind whether to break it off with the other girl.  Good grief, we've been dating for over three months.  I wish to hell he would hurry up." 

Ashley was silent for a moment while she mulled it over.  "How about you?  Are you seeing anyone?"

I smiled ruefully.  "No, I am still pretty leery about women.  I don't want to get involved nor do I want them to get attached to me.  I need time to heal.  Unfortunately the kind of women I am attracted to are also the kind I would like to get attached to.  Since I'm not ready to be attached, it's easier just to keep my distance while I stitch my heart back together."

"That's an interesting way of putting it."  Ashley paused for a moment, then added with a smile. "I don't want to get attached either unless it's with Lawrence.  But I am getting very tired of waiting.  Life is short."

Ashley smiled as she put her hand on mine.  Her smoke signals were unmistakable.  I should know.  I felt the fire.

"I have a question, Ashley.  What happens when Lawrence finally comes around?"

"Then you and I say adios and we move on."

Ashley followed me home that night.