Monday, February 20, 1978, a day which shall live in infamy.  Back in October 1977 I had been hired to teach Line Dancing.  Mind you, nowhere in my job description was there any mention of Partner Dancing.  Counting Monday, Stevens gave me 12 days to prepare to teach people how to Partner Dance.  Considering I had never partner-danced in my life, I nearly fainted at the bad news. 

With my job on the line, I had nowhere to turn.  I bitterly noted that Stevens did not offer to teach me.  Did Stevens even know what Disco Partner Dancing looked like?  Probably not.  Nor did he care.  All he knew was learning to dance came easy to him, so it should come easy to me as well.  Besides, I was the Disco Specialist.  In his mind, that automatically guaranteed this was my problem, not his. 

february 1978: PARTNER DANCE CRISIS PROCRASTINATION

Partner dancing in Saturday Night Fever was based on a trend in Brooklyn.  Last time I checked, Brooklyn is a long way from Houston.  Based on what my students had told me plus tonight's scouting trip to Rubaiyat, I doubted seriously the trend had made it to Houston.  So what was I supposed to do?  There was no one to copy!!  And even if I could find a dance couple to copy, I did not learn well by watching. 

The sad thing is that even in my despair, I sensed there was great opportunity.  If I could learn how to teach partner dancing, this Magic Carpet Ride would surely continue.  But where would I start?  I had no one to teach me and no one to study.  Feeling overwhelmed,  I did the same thing I usually do when presented with an insurmountable problem... I procrastinated. 

Tuesday night, I taught class, then went home.

Wednesday night, I taught class, then went home. 

On Thursday, February 23, Lance Stevens pulled me over before class to confront me.  "Archer, have you gotten started on partner dancing yet?"

"Oh, yes, sir, definitely," I lied.  "Don't worry, I will be ready." 

Stevens narrowed his eyes.  No doubt he knew I was lying through my teeth, but fortunately he said nothing.  Instead he walked away.

With Stevens hounding me, I was terrified to go back to the Rubaiyat for a second look.  I was like the man with a scary pain in his stomach who refuses to go see the doctor for fear of bad news.  I was convinced the next visit would be a repeat of the first and I would be forced to accept my Dream Job was about to expire.   Due to my Thursday night commitment to the Jet Set Club, I was unable to take any action.  To my dismay, several students pestered me about teaching partner dance.  Wracked with fear, I shut down completely when I got home.  I had never felt more helpless in my life.

Friday afternoon I went to the movie theater and watched Saturday Night Fever for a second time.  Maybe another look at the partner dancing would give me an idea.  No luck.  Everything was either too complicated or too fast for me to grasp what I was seeing.  Later that night, however, I was handed an unexpected stroke of good fortune.  After my Friday class finished, a student named Gary said he and some friends were going to the Pistachio Club to check it out. 

"Would you like to join us?" 

"I've never heard of the place, Gary."

"That's because the club just opened last week." 

Curious, I accepted Gary's offer.  Maybe I would see something to help solve my impossible task.

The Pistachio Club was the first of many Houston area dance clubs to act swiftly on the renewed Disco energy.  It was located in Houston's fashionable Galleria district on Post Oak Boulevard three blocks north of Westheimer, a major Houston artery.  Since Stevens of Hollywood was also located on Westheimer, it took less than 10 minutes to drive the necessary four miles.

Considering it was a Friday night, the Pistachio Club was doing good business.  Once inside, I immediately moved to the railing to watch the freestyle dancers.  The large rectangular floor was 40 feet long and 30 feet wide.  It was surrounded by a four-foot wall on all sides.  Given its height, the wall gave the effect of dancing inside a large box.  An opening at each corner allowed dancers to enter the floor.  Tables were elevated to allow seated guests the ability to see over the wall. 

Perched on the wall that outlined the dance floor, I desperately scanned the crowd for any sign of partner dancing.  Nothing.  I was soon joined by Gary.  

"Hey, Rick, when are you going to start teaching us how to partner dance?" 

Frustrated, I replied, "Teach it?  First I have to learn it!"

Gary looked at me in shock.  Oops.  Wrong thing to say.  This was like finding out Tarzan didn't know how to swing on vines. 

"You mean you don't know how to partner dance?"

Exasperated, I replied, "All right, Gary, knock it off.  How am I supposed to learn how to partner dance if I don't have anyone to show me?  Nobody in this city knows how to partner dance to Disco music." 

I pointed to the floor to prove my point, then gasped in shock.  To my surprise, a couple had just begun to partner dance right in front of us.  The nearby freestyle dancers moved aside to give them room.  Gary and I watched in rapt appreciation.  Unfortunately, to my great disappointment, the couple sat down when the song ended.  If I had a brain... don't say a word... I would have gone over and asked where they learned to dance.  But that thought never occurred to me... which is kind of odd given how desperate I was.  To my chagrin, the couple soon left and there was no one else to watch.  But at least I had found a convenient place to visit again. 

Monday, february 27: PARTNER DANCE CRISIS STEVENS TEACHES "DISCO SWING"

So how did my weekend go?  I never lifted a finger.  Instead I just wallowed in pity.  As note to Reader, it is truly difficult to write about this ordeal because it shows how utterly pathetic I was.  Unfortunately, I was so certain I was doomed that I could not find the courage to take positive action.  Quite honestly I had no idea where to start.

And you would of course say, "Rick, it's Saturday night.  Go back to the Pistachio Club!"

Sorry, guys, I could not force myself to move.  And the club was closed on Sunday.

I arrived early for class on Monday evening, February 27.  When Lance Stevens saw me, he reminded me yet again to add partner dance to my March classes, the first of which started in four days.  

"Rick, I've been getting a lot of calls from people who want to learn how to partner dance to Disco music.  They say they want to dance like John Travolta in the movie.  How are you coming on learning to partner dance?"

This was the moment I had been dreading.  Having lied to him once, I could not lie about this again. 

"This is not an easy project, sir.  But at least I found a place where I can go to learn something.  I went dancing on Friday night and saw a couple who were pretty good partner dancers.   I promise to keep working on this.  In fact, I am headed back to the Pistachio Club after class tonight."

I trembled as I spoke.  When Stevens rolled his eyes at this latest proof of my incompetence, I expected the axe to fall right there.  But I was wrong.  Instead, to my surprise, Stevens had a change of heart.  He pointed to the dance floor and told me to join him.

"Oh, Jesus, I figured it would come down to this.  Listen, your Friday class is only four days away.  I can't take a chance on letting you drop the ball, so let me show you what to do."

We had half an hour before class started, so Stevens proceeded to show me something he called 'Disco Swing'.  The word 'Swing' triggered a memory.  Sure enough, the patterns Stevens was teaching me resembled the Swing dancing briefly covered in a Ballroom class I had taken three years ago.  Although I had forgotten what I learned, the patterns came back fairly quickly when Stevens showed them to me again.  I shocked my boss by learning at something approaching a normal rate.  Stevens looked surprised when I picked up the Disco Swing moves faster than he expected.  Pretty sad when 'average' exceeds expectations.

In response Stevens barked, "Good.  You seem to understand.  Now teach that to your students."  He glared at me for emphasis.  "Don't let me down.  When people call, I am promising them that my studio's March Disco classes will feature partner dancing.  I don't want to be handing out refunds or turning customers away.  Do you hear me?"

Stevens stared straight at me.  I said nothing, but made sure to nod.   After that, Stevens went hummph and walked away.  I got the drift.  He expected me to teach Disco Swing when my first March class started in four days... "or else".  My job was officially on the line.  If I couldn't do it, he would find someone else or teach the class himself.  I was perplexed by his behavior.  Despite his obvious contempt, he had surprised me by offering to help.  After careful thought, it dawned on me Stevens had just as much to lose as I did.  I had no idea what was going on behind my back.  However, in Hindsight I think Stevens probably asked around to find someone to take my place only to come up empty.  Neither one of us knew there were no other Disco teachers in Houston at the moment.  Tough luck for Stevens, Dumb Luck for me. 

Who was Stevens going to replace me with?  The professionals knew how to teach Ballroom dancing and no doubt they were wonderful at it.  But I had earned my job fair and square.  How many professional instructors could pull 30 line dances out of their hat?  How many professional instructors knew how to explain Freestyle dancing to dorks?  Just me.  I was one of a kind.  Plus my head start had given me another advantage.  Since I was the only functioning Disco teacher in the city for the first month or so, the other teachers did not have students constantly bugging them to teach partner dancing.  Consequently they had no idea of the gold mine that awaited if they were first to offer classes in partner dancing.  Yes, they would figure it out soon enough.  But at the exact moment Stevens was looking around at the start of March, there were no takers.  So he was stuck with me.

This left Stevens in the uncomfortable position of having put all his eggs in one basket.  Yes, he could take over and teach these classes himself, but he did not want to.  He despised the music so intensely it made him yell at me whenever I played a Disco record too loud in another room.  Furthermore, he did not like dealing with chirpy students half his age.  The whole Disco scene was repugnant to him.  However, from an economic standpoint, he had a lot to lose.  Stevens was looking at the greatest financial bonanza in his entire career and it all rested on the shoulders of the most incompetent dance teacher he had ever met (in his opinion).  I suppose that explained why Mr. High and Mighty decided to step down from his pedestal and cast pearls to the swine.

Monday, february 27: PARTNER DANCE CRISIS Suzy Q

This job meant the world to me.  I felt like God had moved a mountain to get me this far.  Which, in Hindsight, is an odd thing to say.  One part of me was absolutely convinced God had helped me get this far.  So why didn't it occur to me that I could ask for some help with this crisis?  I wish I had an answer.  They say take the bull by the horns.  Not me.  All I did was sit around and mope even though it would break my heart to have this job ripped away just when I was getting started.  I wanted to teach dancing for the rest of my life, so what would I do if Stevens lowered the boom?  That fear dominated morning, day, and night.  And yet I did nothing about it but feel sorry for myself.  Fortunately my sense of helplessness changed thanks to Stevens' unexpected decision to help.  Now I finally had a starting point, a flicker of my long-lost ambition reappeared. 

Rather than return to the Pistachio Club tonight, I asked Suzy, a student in my Monday class, to stick around and help me practice.  Suzy was easily the best dancer, so she was an obvious choice.  Suzy was 38, ten years older than me.  She and her husband Chip were Ballroom students of Stevens.  Chip could care less about Disco, but Suzy liked the music, so she decided to take my Monday night class by herself.   Suzy was a small woman, thin, petite, with short blonde hair.  She was very pretty and I liked her.  Too bad she was married. 

Unfortunately, there was something wrong with what Stevens had taught me.  The Disco Swing patterns Stevens showed me were similar to what I had seen at the Pistachio Club on Friday night, but they were way too slow.  Nevertheless, I was relieved.  At least I finally had a place to hang my hat.  This material would serve as my fall-back option in case another trip to the Pistachio Club failed to turn up new clues. 

Suzy was happy to help, but I noticed she lacked confidence.  Don't get me wrong, her dancing was good, but she seemed to lack self-esteem.  Well, I thought, join the crowd.  I was not terribly confident myself.  Suzy did not seem to notice our age difference.  I called her 'Suzy Q' after one of my favorite songs and she didn't seem to mind. 

After playing with Disco Swing for a while, I realized what Stevens had done.  Based on my limited knowledge from the Ballroom class three years ago, Stevens taken East Coast Swing, a dance based on 4 steps to six beats (slow slow quick quick) and modified it to take four steps in four beats.  '1-2-Back-Step, 1-2-Back Step' danced at Even Tempo. 

Now I understood why Stevens called it 'Disco Swing'.  It was Swing footwork modified to fit a different speed of music.  I was proud of myself for discerning what should have been an obvious insight.  However, in my defense, how many times do I have to remind everyone that I was a total rookie when it came to partner dancing?  Fortunately, I knew enough to sense 'Disco Swing' was not what they had done in the movie.  Nor was it what the Pistachio couple had done on Friday night.  There were similarities, but it was not a match.  Well aware the Pistachio couple from last Friday moved at a much faster clip, my heart sank.  Disco Swing was not my answer.  Stevens' Disco Swing was a boring, snail's-paced joke compared to the lightning-fast moves I had seen on Friday night.

I feared being laughed out of class if I taught this hokey-pokey fake instead of the real thing.  However I did not dare tell Stevens that.  I recalled arguing with Dr. Fujimoto in Graduate School and got myself expelled.  Since I didn't dare ask Stevens for more help, where was I going to learn what I needed?  I decided to return to the Pistachio Club tomorrow night and watch like a hawk.  Sad to say, I felt discouraged on my ride home.  This felt like a classic case of too little, too late.  On the bright side, at least my paralysis was gone.

Tuesday, february 28: PARTNER DANCE CRISIS a ray of hope

Tuesday night, February 28.  With crunch time just days away, I went to the Pistachio Club to catch an advertised free dance class held during Happy Hour.  Since my class tonight at Stevens did not start till 8 pm, I was determined to stay till the last minute to deal with the threat.  Worried out of my mind, I showed up at 5:45 pm prior to the official 6 pm start of the free lesson. 

I was the first person there.  Carlos, the teacher, was a Hispanic teenager barely out of high school.  Carlos was hanging around doing nothing so I asked him to show me what he was going to teach.  Carlos told me to wait, but then another guy showed up.  With a shrug, Carlos decided to get to work.  This was the moment I discovered how tough it is to learn how to dance in a bar.  I had all kinds of problems.  Since the club was crowded and noisy, I had trouble hearing what Carlos said.  Nor could I understand his accent.  There were constant distractions with people coming and going.  In addition, I did not have a partner to practice what Carlos told me to do.  Since Carlos did not have a partner either, he told to imagine a woman in my arms.  It was no use.  I had no idea how to visualize what my imaginary partner was doing.

I had a feeling that Carlos was inexperienced as an instructor.  Hmm.  What did I expect for free?  For one thing, Carlos did not know how to explain the material in any logical manner.  My guess is that Carlos did not know how to Partner Dance to Disco music any better than I did, so he taught a Latin dance known known as 'Merengue' instead.  Carlos bragged that he had personally adapted Merengue to Disco music.  I did not catch on at the time, but in hindsight I would guess Carlos used his Ballroom knowledge to fake being a Disco teacher.  He told me to slide my feet as I walked backwards and forwards one step per beat.  I was immediately upset because this did not resemble anything I had seen in Saturday Night Fever.  Although this material was useless, I told myself to be patient.  I asked him which foot to start with.  Carlos said it didn't matter.  I asked him what the timing was.  Carlos said don't worry about it. 

"Well, what the heck should I worry about?"

Carlos replied, "You should worry about moving your ass, man.  That's what drives the ladies wild."

Exasperated, I wanted to strangle Carlos.  Walk forward and backwards, ignore the music, wiggle my hips.  I was sick in my stomach.  "Look, Carlos, I'm really struggling here.  All you are doing is walking backwards and forwards.  Is that all there is?  Where are the turns? What do I do with my arms?"

Carlos replied, "Hey, man, quit asking so many questions and just copy what I do.  That's all you need to do."

"Watch what I'm doing and copy me."  I did not find that comment helpful.  On the spot, I nicknamed Carlos 'Copy Me'.  I was about to say something unpleasant, but just then two girls came up and begged Carlos to help them.  They were giggling and laughing, "Oh, Teacher, Teacher, teach us how to dance!" 

Poof!  I no longer existed.  Responding to female cajolery, Copy Me lost total interest in helping me.  Filled with disgust, I gave up and walked away.  The pressure was really weighing on my nerves.  It was now 6:15 pm.  My class started at 8 pm.  Maybe I could spot something, so I went over to the railing to study the dancers on the floor.  To my profound relief, there were two couples out there who were good partner dancers.  However, very little of what they did resembled Stevens' 'Disco Swing'.  These people were jet planes compared to the plodding 'Disco Swing'.  On the bright side, I was glad to know there were at least a few people who could partner dance in Houston.  I had a theory called 'Latest and Greatest'.  I assumed the best dancers congregated in the latest hot spot so they could see and be seen.  It was my luck to stumble upon the Pistachio Club which had just become the new 'Latest and Greatest'.  At least now I had a place to see what I needed to learn.  However, nothing the couples did made sense to me.

My friend Patsy Swayze once explained that good dancers can see a move and copy it without thinking.  Not me.  I was far too analytical to grasp how these fast moves worked.  Due to my helplessness, I was overcome with gut-wrenching panic.  I felt the same kind of fear that being lost in the forest might provoke.  How was I ever going to solve this problem?  Feeling overwhelmingly insecure, my job depended on this, but I did not have a clue what the dancers were doing.  I cursed my inadequacy.  Why did I always have to be such a slow learner!?  What I saw was much too complicated to know where to start.  I watched the two couples for 20 minutes without learning a thing.  Soon I would have to leave empty-handed.  I was just about to give up when something caught my eye. 

I noticed a recurring move used by both couples.  It was a repetitive pattern where the man and woman alternated going under their right arm.  They used all four hands, but seemed to only go under their own right arm.  'Guy turn, Girl turn' over and over performed at the speed of lightning.  Treating this like a logic puzzle, I had found a valuable opening.  Hmm.  This move can't be that hard to learn, right?  On impulse, I asked the girl standing next to me if she would help. 

"Excuse me, but do you know how to do that move out there?"  I pointed to the nearest couple as they danced.

"I'm sorry, but I've never partner danced before.  But you can practice with me if you want."

Thank goodness!  I was so desperate I completely forgot I had a Phobia about talking to girls I did not know.  I picked up her hands and tried to imitate what I had just seen.  However every conceivable hand combination failed, so I quit in disgust.  Dejected, I went back to watching.  In the process, I had embarrassed the girl, so she disappeared the moment I turned my back.  Feeling foolish, I was even more miserable than before.  What was wrong with me?  Why does everything always have to be such an uphill struggle?   Frustrated, I could not figure out how they appeared to turn using two hands without letting go!!  Since I had tried every two-hand combination I could think of with that girl, this made no sense.  How many two-hand combinations can there be? 

My problem grew worse as more people arrived.  The floor became so crowded it prevented me from getting a clean look at the two couples who were partner dancing.  In addition, the Disco lights were flashing, so I was getting all kinds of blurred images.  The worse problem was the intermittent nature of my target pattern.  This special move came and went like a lightning bug who flashes once, then disappears.  I would notice the move out of the corner of my eye, but then it was gone.  Then another couple would do the move, but discontinue before I could study it further.  My eyes flitted from one couple to another hoping to solve the riddle, but it was no use.  I was getting nowhere and the pressure was unbearable.  I felt like everything depended on solving this riddle.

A new girl had taken the spot next to me on the railing.  In desperation I pointed to the move on the floor and asked her if she knew how to do that move.  She said sure, so I asked her to help.  First she grabbed both of my hands.  Then she stopped and laughed. 

"My name is Sue Ann.  If you want my help, you will have to buy me a drink afterwards." 

Gladly!!!!  And so the lesson began. 

First Sue Ann explained how the arms work.  "As you go under your right arm, you need to let go of my bottom hand on your waist.  No, don't let go so soon.  Wait until you have no choice.  After you let go, slide your left hand across my waist and back.  Then regain my free hand on the other side."  After showing me what she meant, Sue Ann exclaimed, "Yeah, that's it.  By sliding your hand on my back, that way you can easily pick up my released hand on the other side." 

Aha!  Worked like a charm!  I suddenly understood where my error had been.  This sliding hand trick had given the illusion of not letting go.  I felt so sheepish.  In my ignorance, I had assumed the man or woman held on with their bottom hand.  Indeed, the flashing lights and fast movements had disguised the rapid hand release and recapture trick.  I guess that's why they say the hand is faster than the eye.  I smiled with huge satisfaction.  Tada, mystery solved!!  Having learned my first-ever Disco partner move, I was overcome with relief.  I could not have been more proud of myself to finally make some progress.  Just then I felt a nudge in my back.  

Sue Ann was staring at me expectantly.  "Hey, Mister, where's my drink?"

I was more than happy to deliver.  Looking at my watch, I had ten minutes left till I had to leave.  To save time, we walked to the bar.  I ordered a celebratory drink for myself as well.  While we waited for our drinks, I asked Sue Ann where she learned that move. 

"Oh, that's an old Aggie Jitterbug move," Sue Ann replied.

I was about to ask her what the Aggie Jitterbug was, but our drinks arrived and I got distracted paying for them.  I clinked Sue Ann's glass and thanked her profusely.  Then I chugged down a bourbon and coke like it was a soft drink.  Given that my nerves were driving me crazy, I needed this drink in the worst way.  But at least I was in a better mood.  On the spot, I named Sue Ann's move the 'Pistachio Step'.  Over the years, I would remember this moment with great fondness.  Meeting Sue Ann at the last minute had been a truly lucky break.  Or should I say Dumb Luck?  Buying Sue Ann this drink was quite possibly the best investment I ever made.  This breakthrough would prove to be a major step in solving the Great Partner Dance Crisis.

When my 7-8 class ended, Lance Stevens practically tackled me.  "How are you coming?"

When I showed him my new Pistachio Step, he immediately began to criticize me.  "Archer, one lousy move just isn't going to cut it.  You need to do better."

"But, Mr. Stevens, I am headed right over the dance club now.  I am certain I will learn more patterns." 

Struggling to control his temper, Stevens stared at me skeptically.  "I don't see what your problem is.  Just teach them the goddamn Disco Swing like I told you to.  That will make them happy.  That will make me happy.  Do you understand?"

When I said nothing, Stevens shook his head in disgust and stalked off.  Tick tick tick.  I was in a race to keep my job and time was running out.  Making things worse, I had been given a direct order to teach something I did not believe in.  The partner dancing at the Pistachio Club only vaguely resembled Stevens' Disco Swing.  I preferred to teach what I saw in the club, not this weird East Coast Swing concoction Stevens had crammed down my throat.  I was prepared to teach the 'Pistachio Step' on Friday, but what would Stevens say when he saw me disobey him?  Fortunately I had experienced an attitude shift courtesy of the help Sue Ann gave me last night.  Now that I had one move under my belt, I wasn't going to give up without a fight.  So I went back to the Pistachio Club to watch some more.  I was relieved to see several couples were partner dancing.  I took great pleasure recognizing that every couple used the 'Pistachio Step'.   Watching one couple in particular, 'Disco Swing' was not as far off as I thought.  Several of the patterns I saw performed were similar to Disco Swing, but too slow.  If I could find a way to blend the 'Pistachio Step' with other 'Disco Swing' patterns and make the patterns go faster, I might have something.  Unfortunately, it was getting very late, 10:30.  Time to go.  Feeling defeated, I was ready to throw in the towel and teach that obnoxious 'Disco Swing'.  What else could I do?

Just then someone came up from behind and tapped me on the shoulder.  Locked in concentration like my life depended on it (which it did), I jumped out of my skin and yelped in fear.  Embarrassed at losing control, I turned around to behold a very pretty girl smiling at me.  She looked about 21, seven years my junior.  Noting she wore a skin-tight leotard outfit to accentuate a swimsuit model's figure, I gulped.  This girl was way out of my league.  But who is she?

Taken aback by my startled reaction, the girl said, "I am sorry I scared you.  Are you Rick?"

"Uh, yes," I replied with a wan smile.  Totally bewildered, that was the best I could do.

"My name is Janie.  I came to one of your dance classes last month.  I was across the room and saw you standing here, so I thought I would say hello.  You're a very good dancer."

Really?  Given the problems I was having, I didn't feel like a particularly good dancer.  When I said nothing, Janie continued.

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend Alex, but I am tired of standing around.  Would you like to dance?"

I hesitated.  My infamous fear of rejection by pretty girls was the main reason I had started dance lessons four years ago.  Although my phobia was not as bad as it used to be, I was still too shy to ask women I did not know to dance.  However, I had no problem accepting an offer if a woman asked first.  So we went out on the floor to dance Freestyle.  Janie was a very good Freestyle dancer, but so was I.  We looked good together. 

When we were done, I asked Janie if I could buy her a drink.  This trick had worked with Sue Ann last night, so let's try it again.  I was relieved when Janie nodded yes.  For one thing, this young lady was a serious babe.  Plus I was feeling shaky due to all the pressure.  I could really use a friend at the moment.  Waiting for our drinks to arrive, I said, "Janie, I have a question.  My classes run for eight weeks.  Why did you come to only one class?"

"Oh, you're going to be mad at me, but I didn't pay.  I'm a Senior up at Texas A&M.  I come down to Houston all the time to visit my boyfriend Alex who graduated last year.  When I came down last month, Alex was taking your class that night, so he invited me to come along.  He said your class was crowded and no one would care.  You taught Freestyle and a line dance called the 'Bus Stop.'  Your class was a lot of fun."

I laughed.  I remembered that night.  Janie was right on both accounts.  Yes, my classes were crowded and, yes, no one cared if Janie snuck in.  Since no one guarded the door to check people, anybody could walk in.  With sixty people in the class, one extra person would hardly be noticeable.  Relaxing a little bit, I decided to tease her.  Smiling, I said, "Well, Janie, that means you got a free class.  That means you are totally in debt to me."

Janie laughed.  "Oops, that'll teach me how dangerous it is to tell the truth.  I hope you're not mad at me.  Tell you what, later on we can dance again and this time we can partner dance."

I instantly grew tense.  Janie thought she was doing me a favor, but instead she had touched my rawest nerve. 

"Uh, okay," I replied. 

Noting my hesitation, Janie asked, "Do you like to partner dance?"

With a rueful smile, I confessed.  "I'm sorry, Janie, but I'm not much of a partner dancer.  I only know one lousy step."

Janie giggled at my admission.  "Well, at least you know something.  That's more than most guys.  Show me your big move!"

So I picked up Janie's hands and showed her my Pistachio Step. 

A big smile crossed Janie's face.  With a laugh, she exclaimed. "I know that move!  That's the Aggie Jitterbug!"

My eyes grew wide.  Sue Ann had mentioned the Aggie Jitterbug last night.  "What is the Aggie Jitterbug?"

"The Aggie Jitterbug is a partner dance that all the best dancers use.  We usually use Aggie Jitterbug to country music, but it works to Disco too.  Everyone at A&M knows that move you call the 'Pistachio Step'.  We use it all the time when we partner dance at parties."

I had no idea what she was talking about.  However, I was infinitely curious, so I peppered Janie with several questions.  "Are there other moves to the Aggie Jitterbug?"

"Oh, sure, Rick, there are lots of moves.  I dance the Aggie Jitterbug all the time."

My face lit up with hope.  "Is it hard to learn?  Can you show me?"

"Of course.  The Pretzel is dangerous, but most of the moves aren't that tough."

With a sense of excitement, I walked with Janie to an empty corner next to the Exit door.  Janie knew exactly what to do.  Although men are supposed to lead, a woman can 'back-lead' if she knows a move well enough.  To my relief, Janie was an expert 'Back-Leader'.  In a sense, I was following just like a girl would.  Janie grabbed my hands and led the Pistachio Step, adding this was the primary move of the Aggie Jitterbug.  Then she did a Boy Underarm Turn-Girl Underarm Turn combination using one arm instead of two.  Then she caught my free hand and swung me with her hands held low and wide.  I recognized this move.  It resembled the 'Disco Swing' move that Stevens called the 'Swingaround'.  However, when Janie did it, her Swingaround moved faster.  Then she exited the 'Swingaround' using the 'Pistachio Step'.  Wow!  My eyes lit up.  I was surprised to see how nicely the Swingaround and the Pistachio Step fit together.  But it made sense.  Both patterns used two hands, so I could see why they were connected.

Now Janie stopped.  "That's it!  You've just learned everything I know.  If you want to throw me in the air like they did in the movie, we can always try that."

Worried that she was serious, I blanched.  "Uh no, Janie, let's keep everything on the ground for now.  What you have shown me is awesome.  You have been wonderful!  Can I try it with you again?  I want to see if I can remember this well enough to practice later on."

"Sure, but only if you promise me I have repaid my debt.  I want to be able to sleep tonight conscience-free."

I knew she was teasing, but reassured her nonetheless.  "You have nothing to worry about.  Now it's my turn to be in debt to you.  In fact, I am so much in debt to you it is ridiculous.  You may have saved my career."

"Oh, don't be silly.  However, maybe you can do me a favor."

"What's that, Janie?"

"You can teach Alex how to partner dance.  That's why he took your January-February class in the first place.  He told me he was really disappointed when you didn't cover partner dancing in February."

I rolled my eyes.  Until I learned how to teach partner dancing, my ignorance on this subject promised endless torment. 

"Why don't you teach Alex yourself?  If you can teach me, you can teach anyone."

"Oh, I tried, but he's a guy.  Boys don't listen to girls, especially to girlfriends.  Alex claims it's too embarrassing to have his girlfriend teach him how to dance.  Alex has a thin skin if you know what I mean.  But I think he would listen to you.  He likes your jokes and your sarcasm.  He loves it when you pick on people for mistakes and tease them."

I smiled.  "Okay, Janie, you have a deal.  You send Alex to next Friday's class and I will show him what you taught me tonight.  No charge.  Please come with him if you are in town.  But first I want you to take me through this one more time."  

As we practiced, this moment had the feel of a giant breakthrough.  Janie had given me several excellent ideas.  Best of all, by back-leading the Aggie Jitterbug, Janie had given me an idea how these moves were supposed to feel, how they were connected, and the best order in which to use the moves.  I made a mental note to test these ideas with Suzy Q tomorrow night. 

I wanted to dance with Janie further, but to my chagrin Alex showed up.  Too bad.  I had developed a big crush on Janie.  Fortunately, Alex didn't suspect a thing, so everything was cool.  In fact, Alex laughed when he saw me.  "Hey, you're my dance teacher!  How are you doing, Rick?  Did you teach Janie anything useful?"

"No," I said.  "Actually Janie was teaching me."  Alex was a nice guy.  I felt guilty for coveting his awesome girlfriend.

Alex smiled ruefully.  "Yeah, I know the feeling.  Janie tries to teach me too, but I always get flustered.  It really irritates me that Aggie girls don't need lessons.  All they have to do is follow.  You can't get Janie off the floor at A&M."

Janie chimed in.  "Alex is right.  I dance at A&M every chance I get, but mostly to country music, not Disco.  I like Disco, but it isn't very popular in Aggie Land."

I wanted to chat longer, but this had been a long night and I was really tired.  Working two jobs plus hanging out here at the Pistachio Club was wearing me down.  But mostly I wished Janie had not been so pretty.  Janie had reminded me how lonely I was.  However, before turning my attention to women, first I needed to get past my partner dance crisis.  In the meantime, I duly noted that yet again, I had received one of the luckiest breaks of my life.  If I was reading the tea leaves right, someone up there liked me.

Thursday, march 2: PARTNER DANCE CRISIS running out of time

I was committed to teach at the Jet Set Club on Thursday night, so I phoned Suzy to ask if we could meet before class for an hour of practice. 

The following night, Thursday, Suzy Q stayed after class to help me review Janie's Aggie Jitterbug patterns. 

"I like what we have covered, Suzy, but it won't be enough to fill an entire hour.  Plus, what will I teach the next week?"

Suzy stared at me for a moment.  "Did Stevens order you to stick to partner dancing the entire hour?"

"No, I guess he didn't."  I paused for a moment as a new idea popped into my head.  "In fact, that gives me more leeway.  What if I just show them two moves to whet their thirst, then switch to my usual Freestyle and Line Dance patterns to fill up the rest of the hour?"

"Which patterns?"

"The two main ones, the Pistachio Step and the Swingaround.  We can add the one-hand underarm turns next week."

Suzy nodded.  "Okay, that's a good idea.  But what if they ask for a demonstration?"

"I will bluff my way through it, maybe tell them a rhyme I cooked up."

"What's your rhyme?"

"I'll give you a peek to keep you abreast.  Come back next week to see the rest."

"Ha ha.  But don't you think we need to know everything in advance just in case?"

That was a serious point.  So serious in fact that I had to think about it.  Out of nowhere, I had another insight.

"Suzy, I think the only chance I have to pull this off is to tease them with a little bit at a time.  If we can just get through Friday, that will give me an entire week to go back to the Pistachio Club and find something new to teach the following week.  I don't need to know everything ahead of time.  I just need to stay one step ahead of my students and pretend that I am an expert."

Suzy's face lit up.  "That's a great idea!  How did you think of that?"

"I don't know, it just came to me."

This idea turned out to be a life-saver.  I did not need to know how to partner dance well.  I just needed to stay one step ahead of my students.  By adding a new move each week, I could be learning how to partner dance at the same time I was teaching it.  This moment was the birth of my unusual 'Fake it till you Make it' strategy.  Hmm.  This might just work.  With the realization that I had fighting chance of surviving this ordeal, waves of relief washed over me. 

"Suzy, I need one more favor.  Will you be able to help me tomorrow?"

"I don't want to commit to every Friday night, but, yes, I will help you tomorrow."

Thursday, march 2: PARTNER DANCE CRISIS JET SET CLUB

After class on Thursday, I headed over to the Jet Set for my weekly adventure.  As usual I was a big hit.  And, as usual, I was pestered with questions on when I would start teaching partner dance. 

"Good news, everyone, I will begin teaching partner dancing next week."

"Why not tonight?" someone asked.

"I am still working the kinks out.  However I'll be ready next week."

"Well, show us something!"

I looked around and noticed a dark-haired woman named Karen standing nearby with her husband Kirk.  Karen was a serious babe, easily the best-looking woman in the club.  She was good at the line dances, so I assumed she would be a good bet to help me demonstrate my Swingaround-Pistachio Step combination.  Catching her eye, I beckoned her to join me on stage.  "Hey, Karen, come be my partner for a minute."

Moving cautiously, I walked Karen through both moves.  As I expected, Karen caught on fast.  Picking up speed, we looked pretty good.  Sure enough, the crowd went wild with anticipation.  It was just two moves, but to this hungry crowd, it was more than enough to whet their thirst.  Before returning to her husband, Karen winked at me. 

"That was fun, Rick.  Let's do this again sometime." 

I had trouble getting Karen out of my mind on the way home.  Something very strange was going on in my life.  At the start of this week, I had been faced with almost certain doom.  Now in the space of four days, a series of unexpected lucky breaks had turned a hopeless situation into a likely pot of gold.  Could my life possibly be any more weird? 

I crossed my fingers and prayed tomorrow's class went well.  However, I was not worried.  I had four reasons to be optimistic.  Suzy Q, Sue Ann, Janie, now Karen.  I smiled at the memory of holding these four extremely attractive women in my arms.  If ever the Universe wanted to dangle a motivating carrot, the fantasy of a future filled with women like these was potent indeed.  In particular was the electricity I felt when Karen winked at me.  She was like an omen sent to reassure me all was not lost.

Wyrd bid ful arad.  Destiny is everything.  I decided Karen was my Raven.