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CHAPTER EIGHT:
GETTING NOWHERE
Written by Rick
Archer
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APRIL 2001
THREE SUNDAYS IN APRIL
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On the following Sunday, Lawrence
returned to class.
When I saw them come in together, I was pleased to note I
did not feel possessive.
At this point in life, I knew how to guard my
heart. Or at least I thought I did. I could
handle myself with Ashley, but Marla was another story.
Whenever I saw Marla enter the studio on Mondays, my heart
would skip a beat.
I still could not figure out how we could laugh and
tease during class back in March, but that energy
had never extended beyond class. I kept hoping
Marla would stick around for Monday Practice Night
and give me a chance to ask her to dance. No
such luck. However, Marla did occasionally stick
around for a song or two with a guy friend from
class. She would dance both songs with him, then
immediately leave by herself. What was I supposed to
do, cut in? Tackle her as she went out the
door? Chase her to her car, fall on my knees
and beg? Why
bother. Watching Marla leave, I cursed my
inability to arouse her interest. It was easier
just to give up.
Meanwhile, back to Ashley. When Ashley showed up with
Lawrence at Practice Night the following week, she doted on
him like the King of Siam. They looked
so happy together I assumed Ashley had gotten her wish. When Ashley
shot me a quick grin, I was more certain my hunch was right. Lawrence and Ashley only stayed briefly.
They danced three songs, then
called it a night. I assumed they left early
because they had something better to do.
To my surprise, ten minutes later Ashley returned. I
noticed she had reapplied lip stick. Interesting.
Assuming Ashley and Lawrence had come in separate cars,
Lawrence must have left first. If so, why had Ashley
returned? She gave me a quick glance, winked, then
headed off in another direction. Hmm. Does this
mean what I think it means? The moment she put her purse down, Ashley
received a swift offer to dance.
Women with her kind of looks don't get ignored for long.
Ashley danced five songs, each with a different partner.
To the casual eye, no one would ever connect us. Given the
clandestine nature of our relationship, I was unwilling to
let anyone spot my interest. I paid Ashley no heed and
continued to dance with other women. Ashley didn't
look worried. She was a very confident woman. She knew I would get around to her
eventually and so I did.
Towards the end of the evening I made my way over.
The song was a Waltz with an appropriate message for both of
us. While Ashley thought of Lawrence, I thought of
Marla.
I'm dancing your
memory away in the arms of a stranger
For now I'm okay, my heart's out of danger.
Tonight while I'm waltzing as the band softly plays,
I'm getting by, one song at a time, dancing your memory
away
As I walked Ashley back to her chair, she asked, "Want some company
later on?"
I
smiled and nodded. "Sure."
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To avoid suspicion, Ashley left immediately. She was
waiting in her car when I got home.
I was not sure what the
situational ethics called for. Was this liaison right
or wrong? As
for myself, I had little invested. If our secret
liaison was revealed, the most likely
person to get hurt would be Ashley or Lawrence.
Besides, this was her idea.
I was just along for the ride.
Since no commitments had been made, I figured
the
law of the jungle prevailed. I'm Tarzan, you're Ashley.
Let's find a vine and swing. I figured Ashley was old enough to know what she was
doing, so I did not feel guilty. Apparently neither
did Ashley. She had a big smile on her face as she got
out of the car. When we got inside, I thought it might be nice to share a
glass of wine.
"So how are things going with Lawrence?"
"Oh, I don't know. We're making progress, but still no luck. At least we're
smooching. That's what we were doing in
the parking lot tonight before Lawrence decided to
leave. I was hoping he would ask me to follow him
home, but
I guess not."
Ashley
paused. "You
don't mind me talking about Lawrence, do you?"
I
laughed. "No, I don't mind. Don't worry about
me. I have some sort of wall surrounding my heart.
The last thing I need right now is to get involved. You know what I mean, don't you? I
enjoy having you here, so please don't take what I say the wrong way."
Ashley nodded. She was pleased to see me sticking to
the ground rules.
"So what about you?
I saw a couple girls looking at you at Practice Night. Have you made a
choice?"
"I am quite content to be with you, Ashley."
Tonight was a replay of last Sunday. The following Sunday was more of the same.
However,
our torrid romance came to a swift halt the following week.
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SUNDAY, MAY 6, 2001
ASHLEY EXTRACTS A PROMISE
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The first Sunday in May marked the
start of a new dance month.
When
Ashley walked into the studio, she and Lawrence were holding hands.
That was my first clue. My second clue was
the worried look on her face.
The third clue was her refusal to look in my direction.
Seeing how nervous she looked, I think Ashley was afraid I might give her away.
She had nothing to fear. At my age, I understood
discretion was called for.
Lawrence and Ashley were out of sight for the next hour.
They were taking their class from someone else.
However, during the traditional 15-minute Break between Hour One
and Hour Two, Ashley made her way over. I assumed
Lawrence was dancing in another room because he was
nowhere in sight.
Ashley crossed her arms and gave me a
faint smile.
"Well, it finally
happened."
"Yes, I figured as much. Good for you. How was
it?"
"It was great.
Just what I hoped for."
Ashley paused and bit her lip. " But you know what
that means, right?"
I
nodded with a faint smile, but said nothing.
Ashley frowned. "Are you okay with
that?"
"I feel a touch of regret, but
yes, I'm okay with it.
A deal is a deal. If anything, I
appreciate how forthright you have been about where you
stand."
When Ashley gave a huge sigh of
relief, I could tell she had a lot invested in keeping our
three-night fling a secret. Sure enough, her next
words confirmed my suspicion.
"I hoped you would
say that. Listen, before I go, I have a big favor to
ask."
"What's that?"
"Can we keep this
between us? I would be sick if Lawrence found
out."
"Of course,
Ashley. I completely understand. It is my
nature to keep my mouth shut anyway, but in your case you have my
firm promise not
to say a word to anyone."
Ashley looked over her shoulder. Seeing that no one
was watching, she squeezed my hand and whispered "Adios,
muchacho" in a husky voice. Without another
glance, Ashley left to find Lawrence who was busy somewhere
else. When Ashley said "Adios",
she meant it. We never spoke again beyond hello. Ashley and Lawrence
continued to take classes from other instructors throughout the summer.
Although I was no longer her teacher, we smiled when we
passed in the hall. Just to be on the safe side, I
made it a habit to avoid asking her to dance at Practice
Night. However I kept my eye on them.
I was pleased when Ashley and Lawrence
signed up for the August dance
cruise. The fact that they would be sharing a cabin on
the trip
spoke volumes.
Keep Ashley in mind.
We will meet her again.
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My
divorce was final in May. Once Ashley moved on,
there was no one to take her place.
Marla enjoyed being a popular member of
her Monday Swing class, so she signed up with
her friends for
another Swing class in May. As long as she continued
coming to the studio, I clung to the slim hope Marla might someday
warm up to me. I still refused to make a bold move.
They say faint heart ne'er
won fair maiden. Maybe so, but count me
out. The divorce had stripped
me of the confidence needed to make my intentions
known. In my conflicted state of mind, I
wasn't about to drop to one knee and declare
undying love to a woman who had yet to give me
the time of day. That left me with no
choice but to play a cat and mouse game to
protect my pride.
Refusing to
make a move without encouragement,
I continued to limit myself to gentle chats whenever Marla
came to the studio early. Unfortunately, our
superficial banter revealed little of note,
so I remained completely in the dark as to her
status. I hated the fact that my crush was
completely one-sided. I should have given
up, but I didn't. As long as her boyfriend
continued to stay out of sight, that left the
door open to keep my slim hopes
alive.
I kept looking for a break. Since Marla didn't push me away during our
little chats, I felt safe approaching her at
every opportunity. I kept thinking one day
Marla would let something slip that would allow
me to pry a little deeper. There was one
question I was dying to ask
"Marla,
why isn't Chris going on this
trip? Doesn't Chris realize the risk he is taking? No man in his right
mind would let a woman with your kind of looks go on a
singles cruise alone!"
However, Marla never gave me the slightest opening to dig deeper.
There was a reason this Cat and Mouse game was
going nowhere. I was the only one who
was playing.
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FRIDAY, JUNE 8, 2001
TROPICAL STORM ALLISON
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On Friday night, June 8,
the studio served as an impromptu Noah's Ark for
30 refugees who were stranded
due to a monster storm.
Known as Tropical Storm Allison, the Heavens opened
up and poured heavy rains upon Houston for 10 straight
hours. Although the
rain started around 6 pm, it was not hard enough to deter
people from coming to class.
Since the studio
had no windows, we had no idea the
neverending monsoon was flooding Houston in near-Biblical
proportions.
Our first clue came when class ended at 9
pm. People took one look outside and
decided to stay for Practice Night rather than fight the
steady downpour. Their gamble failed when the
rain refused to stop. Those with monster trucks made it out,
but the
rest were trapped at the studio.
Fortunately the power
did not go out and we had plenty of comfortable couches. The
studio proved to be a very safe haven to ride out the storm.
One student who left the studio too late to make a clean
getaway later shared a key insight.
"Don't ever curse people out
in a storm. You might
end up spending the night with them at a gas station!"
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Friday Practice
Night lasted until 11 pm. I could
not help but notice when several people
whom I had seen leaving came back in.
They explained they went as far as they
could, but then turned around and came
back once they saw it was hopeless.
That was my first clue that I would be
spending the night at the studio.
Maybe I could get home, maybe I
couldn't, but I could not desert these
people. They were my friends and
tonight they would be my guests.
So I made an announcement that everyone
was welcome to stay. Stranded at
the studio, 30 people made the best of
the odd situation. An endless
supply of complimentary beer helped
considerably.
Around midnight I had a couch
to myself, or so I thought. A
young lady came over and asked if she
could join me. Sylvia, a very pretty girl.
Sure, be my guest. Odd nights make
for odd bedfellows. The
possibilities were endless.
"Something
in your eyes was so inviting,
something in your smile was so
exciting..."
To my surprise,
Sylvia laid down with her head in the
opposite direction. Not quite what
I had hoped for. Oh well, there
goes that fantasy. I might add I was
the perfect sedative. Sylvia took
one look at me and passed out. A
very tall girl, as Sylvia thrashed in
her sleep, one of her feet came to rest
high on my chest.
Thanks to Big Foot, I was
too uncomfortable to sleep. I
could have said something, but my couch
mate was sound asleep.
Meanwhile Louis
and Callie laid claim to a couch across
the room from me. Apparently they
had never met before, but I watched as
the twosome quickly hit it off in the darkness.
Acting like two people who meet on a
deserted island, they began an animated
conversation. So what did
I do for entertainment? With
Sylvia's foot in my face, mobility was
limited. With nothing better to
do, I laid
there listening to Louis and Callie chat
away like bosom buddies.
Interesting phrase. Laughter
ensued, leading to the fastest
connection since Tarzan and Jane. In the
gloom, it took them less
than 30 minutes
to go from polite vertical conversation to
intimate horizontal
smooching. Once they started, they
did not stop. Soon the moans
began. How they
managed to keep their clothes on is beyond me.
I don't think they slept the entire
night. Nor did I.
Alternating between groping, giggling,
kissing and moaning, the lovebirds kept me up all
night.
I didn't mind. It pleased me no end to watch another
romance blossom. And so Cupid's
Playground claimed its next two victims.
As I write this story 20 years later,
last time I checked they are still together.
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May
ended, June began, Rick was still on his own.
However, I was getting stronger.
Ashley had been the
tonic I needed to get some of my confidence back. I guess
the girls could see the difference. As news of my May
divorce got around,
several
ladies decided to kick the tires and see if I had
anything left to offer. At Practice Night they asked me to dance with them.
When the song ended, they invariably let me know how much they enjoyed our pleasant trip around the floor.
One snap my fingers and my life as the
Solitary Man would have come to an end. Unfortunately, I still
pined for Marla. If Marla wasn't interested, it was time to move on. But first I had to give it one last chance.
Since Marla was no longer my student, this meant our
days of classroom banter were over.
Fortunately, rather than drive home after work, she
often came early to the studio on Mondays.
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As
if on cue, on the Monday following Tropical Storm Allison, Marla
showed up an hour early before class. The moment I saw her walk in, I
decided this was the
night. Enough cat and mouse. Time to ask a direct
question. The moment Marla sat down on her
favorite couch, I went over. To my surprise she smiled at me
when I walked over. She was so pretty I nearly
stumbled. Trying to act casual, I sat on the
arm of the couch.
"So what happened to
you during Allison?"
"I
spent Friday night at Chris' house. The
rain put me to sleep. I slept so soundly I
had no idea what was going on. However,
when I tried to leave the next morning, the
water was so high I had to spend another night
with Chris. What a crazy storm."
I
frowned. This was hardly the way I wanted this
conversation to begin. Marla had just set a
new record by raising her 'Chris Sign' less
than one minute into the conversation. However, I
was undeterred. I soldiered on
by switching the topic to the cruise. At our
usual rate of ten or so new passengers per month, we
were closing in on 80 people.
Marla smiled at my obvious pride in the growing total. After some pleasantries, I
gulped and plunged forward.
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"Marla, I know we
spoke about this once before, but is there any chance your boyfriend
Chris
will sign up? Lately it seems like the boy-girl ratio just
keeps getting worse. Is there any chance you could talk him
into coming? We could definitely use a few
more guys."
I had used this same
bullshit line once before, but it was harmless enough. This time I got a somewhat different answer.
""I don't think
that's going to happen. Chris isn't interested in cruising
or dance. Plus, I doubt he would be willing to take time
off from work. I love to cruise, so I am looking forward to
spending time with my new dance friends from the studio."
I was glad to know Chris
was not going, but her statement did not reveal possible problems in
their relationship.
"Won't he miss you?"
"Not really.
He's always busy with his work and rugby. Besides, Chris
just returned from a trip to France with his rugby buddies in
May. Now, it's my turn for a trip. Chris doesn't
mind if I go solo. I guess he knows me too well. He
is not concerned."
My heart sank. "Chris
is not concerned..." This was hardly the answer I wanted
to hear. I wanted Marla to declare that this cruise trip was a
fiery demonstration of her new-found independence. No such
luck. The way she said it, it sounded like Chris was so secure
in their relationship he could care less what she did. I
frowned. What a lucky guy. Any man who didn't worry
about losing Marla to a wolf pack of seagoing Romeos was a confident man
indeed. And with that, I snapped. As all remaining patience
drained out of me, I stood up without another word and
abruptly walked away. I felt guilty when I noticed Marla
looked surprised by my curt ending to the conversation. Should
I apologize? No. Why bother? This
situation was hopeless. What would be the point of explaining
it to her? Marla was simply not available. End of story.
Time to move on.
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Marla's Note:
I think most students continue taking class month
after month as a way to keep seeing their friends.
That was certainly true for me. I thought it
was better to continue developing friendships
outside of my boyfriend than to work on advanced
technical dance training. Plus the Zoot Suit
class was a giant bore, especially without the
camaraderie of my new friends.
Meanwhile Rick was as innocuous as he could be in
regards to me. After I signed up for the cruise, he
would occasionally make some perfunctory comment in
the hallway. Trust me, he kept his feelings
well
hidden.
I remember one time when I arrived
early to the studio. He sat on the edge of the
sofa and made some small talk. All of a
sudden, he jumped up and briskly walked away from me
while I was mid sentence. I thought "how
rude". I never felt the least bit of interest
from him because his eyes constantly darted away
from me during our conversations. My
experience has been that if a man is interested in
you, he pays attention to you.
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JULY
2001
THE DOG DAYS OF SUMMER
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To heck
with women. One way to forget about Marla was
to leave town. Over the July 4th
holiday, I took my daughter Sam on a trip to Northern
Virginia to see my beloved Aunt Lynn. Lynn was
like a mother to me. She was the only reason I
survived college. Anytime I got too far down
in the dumps, I would drive down from Baltimore for
a pep talk. I loved this woman so much.
This trip was the first
time I had seen Lynn since college twenty years ago. During our
visit, Lynn took
Sam and cousins Dale and April on a
sightseeing trip into Washington DC .
We went to a
nature park the next day. On the third day, my cousin Todd found
time to take us on a kayak trip down the Potomac
River.
From
there Sam and I headed to Baltimore to visit Johns Hopkins,
my alma mater. With a frown, I noticed the
school had gone coed. Too late now.
Finding women when I went to Hopkins was like
looking for water in the Sahara desert. Here
I was 30 years later and I was still thirsty. When I
returned to the studio in July, I would occasionally see
Marla from afar. No more approaches, but the
vigil continued. I told myself I had given
up on my crush, but who's fooling who? I still
watched Marla like a hawk whenever she was around.
I wanted to see if she was pursuing any of the men
at the studio. From what I could tell, Marla
didn't give any man much of an opening. That
was good enough for me. If I couldn't have
her, I didn't want some other guy to
have her either.
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I
remained unattached throughout the summer.
I remained a target at Practice
Night, but kept the women at arm's length.
There were no more bold Ashley-style
invitations. Most women prefer
something with a possible future. That
included Ashley, just not with me.
Ashley was an aberration. She wanted a
temporary lover on short notice and she chose me.
To the other women, I was considered
a risky bet. Women hate dating men on the
rebound and for good reason. They say
there are stages following a divorce.
Grief, regret, depression, blame, loneliness,
self-doubt, anger, bitterness. Sorry to say, I fit the
stereotype. At the moment, I was in my 'Angry and Bitter' stage towards women.
Sometimes I was nice enough to be around, other
times I reeked of hostility.
Readers of my previous books will recall my 20-year Epic Losing Streak
with women. Guess what put an end to the
losing streak? Two failed marriages.
As of 2001, dating back to high school, I had
yet to sustain a long-term positive relationship.
Why was that?
A likely explanation would be my
moody, sarcastic personality. I was
starting to worry that True Romance
was going to bypass me in this lifetime.
For that matter, does True Love even exist?
I had my doubts. No doubt the women at the studio could feel my
cynicism. I was not mean to anyone, but I
was definitely cold and aloof. Women are smart.
They know how callous and angry men can get after a divorce. Better to
let some other foolhardy female be the first to incur
my wrath and let me get it out of my system.
I suppose I was
considered radioactive. No doubt the first
woman stupid enough to take a chance would die a
miserable Chernobyl death. Ashley knew I
was dangerous, but had the sense to leave
before my dark side kicked in. I
did not blame women for keeping their
distance. My
porcupine personality acted as a crude form of birth
control. Let's face it, I was damaged
goods.
I had a well-known temper, a tendency towards sarcasm,
and a chip on my shoulder. I
had a thin skin and little patience for criticism. When I was in a good mood, I was an interesting
guy, but 'complicated' as one woman
described me. No one had any
idea how long the good mood would last. One
wrong word and I might be grouchy for the rest
of the night. I
was like an old house. With some fixing up,
I might be worth something. However, it was going to
take a lot of work and plenty of fresh
paint. Who knows how much hidden
damage there was.
During
first six months of 2001, I was crippled, full of self-pity,
intensely self-critical. Despite doing the
best I could in my ten-year marriage, my best was
obviously not good enough. Here in the summer,
I reached the
next stage. Gone was the depression and now I was angry all the
time. I was angry at myself, I was angry
at women, I was angry at the world.
I
was in one of those Scorched Earth 'Never Fall in Love Again'
kind
of moods. I was cynical about romance and not even remotely ready for a
committed relationship. In
particular, I had serious trust issues.
But then what divorced guy
my age
doesn't? Or divorced women for that matter.
The optimism of youth had been replaced by
pessimism born of failure. My anger helped me maintain the
same
indifference towards women I had felt towards
Ashley. Comme
ci,
comme ça,
women
come, women go. There would be other women on the
upcoming
cruise besides Marla, so it was high time to
quit worrying about
her love life and go find somebody else.
If a
woman could overlook the failure of my marriage, I had a few things going for me. Some women
thought I was funny. A few were impressed
to find I knew the difference between a verb and an
adjective. I had
hair, I had a job, I could dance. On the rare night
I was
not pissed off at the world, I had the
unexpected
ability to talk
about something other than football, superhero movies,
and the Sports
Illustrated swimsuit issue. As one woman
said,
if I would just wag my tail once in a while, I
would be top
doggie in the pet store window. Another woman called
me a good gamble on the resale shelf. Hmm.
Are these compliments or insults? I wasn't having a very good summer.
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EARLY
AUGUST
THE CHECKLIST
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It was August now. We were getting
down to crunch time. The trip was scheduled to
start Saturday, August 18. We crossed the
significant '100 guests' milestone two weeks before the August departure date.
I was quite pleased with myself. Job well
done.
Now it was time
to turn my attention to
finding companionship on this trip. With 55 women and
only 45 men,
I liked my odds. Even if every man was picked
before me, I still had 11 chances with no remaining
competition. Or maybe not.
The remaining women were under no obligation to pick
a partner. Considering my toxic reputation as a two-time loser, if given a choice between Rick Archer
and no man at all, I might end up sitting on the
bench.
Surely I wasn't that bad.
I had to
believe some lady might be lonely enough to take
a chance on me.
Perhaps I exaggerate my
unsuitability. In reality, I suppose I was
attractive enough for some woman to take a
risk during a five-night trip. I suppose if it
turned out I was beyond repair, once we reached home
she could
always discard me. It's been fun, but now it's done.
I printed out the list of 55
women and circled the names of four ladies I had my eye on.
I realized Marla was a long-shot, but maybe I could
get her alone sometime on the trip and see if I
could finally generate some interest. For this
reason, I put Marla first on the list. But
let's be realistic. Given Marla's six-year
romance, I made sure not to get my hopes up.
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Well aware my chances with Marla
were slim and none, I thought about my other three
choices. On the
off-chance I could somehow regain my long-lost
charm,
Rebecca was an
excellent choice. Rebecca was not only quite beautiful,
she had
gone to the effort of inviting me to lunch earlier in
the summer.
At the time I had turned her down due to my interest
in Marla. Given how poorly my crush on Marla
had turned out, I regretted my mistake ever since.
Maybe
Rebecca would give me a second chance during the
cruise.
Kellie was my
second choice. Kellie was sexy, bright, very
good looking. In addition, she was one of the best dancers on the trip.
I had
admired her for years. If Kellie was
interested, this could be special.
Unfortunately, Kellie had kept me at arm's length in
a manner similar to Marla. Still, you never
know. We matched up very well.
My third
choice, Priscilla, might actually be best for
me. She exuded warmth. She was
easy to talk to and I felt safe around her.
Considering how I kept my guard up with most women,
the thought of spending time alone
with Priscilla made me smile.
Now my
thoughts returned to Marla, International Woman of Mystery.
Ever since my temper
tantrum back in June, I had made no attempt to
speak to her. What was the point? However, I still thought
about her wistfully. I recalled the Thunderbolt back in November. Who would
have thought after all this time I would still
carry a torch for this woman. Marla would be alone on the upcoming cruise.
Isolated from her boyfriend, surely there would
be an opportunity. That possibility was
never far from my mind.
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EARLY
AUGUST
CARY GRANT OFFERS HOPE
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I talked with my students about cruises
all the time. Someone
mentioned
Affair to Remember,
a movie I had never seen.
Described as romance classic that
unfolds on a cruise ship, I rented a copy as a homework project.
The movie implied that a woman's heart is in
great peril at sea.
Two
attractive people are traveling solo. Both
of them are engaged to someone back home.
However, beware the power of Neptune.
Full moons and ocean waves do strange things to a woman's mood.
Watching
Deborah Kerr
swoon over Cary Grant, maybe those legends about
romance at sea were true. I suppose it
helped to be Cary Grant. Although I was no Cary
Grant, I
was emboldened nonetheless. How
could I forget the sight of Deborah
Kerr systematically weakening day by day?
Sure enough,
by trip's end, Deborah decided to ditch her fiancé, a
millionaire no less. I was inspired. Seeing
my hero in action, I had all sorts of ideas
how to get it done.
Be smooth! Be
glib! Be dashing! Be Cary Grant.
Given my state of mind, I
actually wondered if the Universe had suggested
I watch this movie. After all, it pumped me
full of
renewed encouragement to pursue
Marla. If there was one thing I
had learned during my many years of abject
failure, there is no such thing as an 'Unattached'
Attractive Woman. No matter what woman I was
interested in, there was bound to be a fight for
her heart. Even
if Marla was truly on the level about this six year
relationship, there was no reason why I
shouldn't
make a play for her on this upcoming trip.
I was no Cary Grant,
but then few men are. At some point on
this trip, I was certain I would meet Marla
alone. Who knows what would happen?
Given that
Chris had failed to make a single appearance at
the studio in six months, clearly he
barely paid
little attention to his
gorgeous girlfriend.
Noting
Marla's loyalty, I assumed
her virile
boyfriend must ooze with
self-confidence to take her for granted.
Personally, I questioned the man's light and
breezy approach. Where was his common sense?
According to
Affair to Remember,
exposing Marla to temptation at sea was taking a big
chance. There were 35 unattached men in our group. Knowing that every one of them
would ask Marla to dance at some point, no man
in his right mind would dream of allowing his girlfriend to go
alone on a singles cruise.
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27 years had passed
since I read the Mistress Book, the strange
book that started me on my Dance Path. The book
had one piece of advice that had never left my mind.
The easiest way to get a woman's attention is to let
her see a man in a place where he looks his best. Women
are attracted to excellence, so find that one special area
where women will see you doing what you are very good
at.
The
cruise ship was powerful turf for me. I
had persuaded 100 people to climb aboard.
I was their leader. I would be front and
center on this trip. It was true that my
approaches at the studio had not worked with
Marla. However, once we were at sea, I had
a significant advantage. I would
have five nights and four full days to make my
case. Surely the respect gained from
organizing the trip would boost my credibility
in Marla's eyes.
Affair to Remember made it clear that
just because Marla had a boyfriend did not mean
it was hopeless. After all, what kind of
guy waits around for six years? Or what
girl for that matter. Six years was
ridiculous, totally unheard of. Seriously,
there had to be an opening. One of them
had cold feet, I was sure of it.
To
be honest, I had no idea who laid claim to Marla's heart.
In the six months I had tracked her, she had yet to show
interest in a man. To all appearances, Marla was
dedicated to Chris. Nevertheless, my instincts
continued to insist Marla was in play.
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THE GYPSY
PROPHECY
Chapter
NINE:
MIAMI
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