APRIL 1978, the disco years Marian

Shortly after the Scream in the Night, there was a curious incident at Stevens of Hollywood.  On the last Friday in April, my students were leaving the studio after class was over.  Stevens was long gone, so it was my job to lock up.  As was my habit, I went to make sure the lights were turned off in the three backrooms.  When I returned to the Main Ballroom, I noticed a woman named Marian had lingered.  Considering the late hour, 10:20, this was a surprise. 

I knew Marian from the complicated "Cuddles" Disco class I had started in April.  Marian was a short, slender lady in her 40s, very tense, very nervous.  She wore her brown hair in a bun and her face was taut with worry.  Since we were the last two people in the building, I assumed her presence was deliberate.  Something was bothering her, so I wondered what it could be.  The moment I saw that wounded look on Marian's face, I suspected someone or something had knocked Marian down.  Spousal abuse?  Lost her job?  Cheating boyfriend?  Death in the family?  Unsure what to say, I kept it simple.

"What can I do for you, Marian?"

"I'm struggling with this partner dancing move you taught tonight.  I keep messing up in class and I get embarrassed.  Do you have a minute?  I know it's late."

I tried not to frown, but I doubted this was why she stayed.  However I played along. 

"Of course, Marian.  Let's have a look."

I led Marian through a couple moves and spotted what she was doing wrong almost immediately.

"Your problem is that you are taking what I call a 'false step'.  That mistake puts you on the wrong foot."

"What is a false step?"

"That's my term for when you take a step, but don't actually put sufficient weight on it.  This mistake causes you to take two steps in a row with the same foot.  When you begin the next pattern with the wrong foot, it often causes the man to step on your feet."

Marian nodded.  "That explains why the men kept tripping over my feet all night long."

"Probably.  You need to transfer more weight to switch feet on every step."

"Can you show me?"

"Sure.  But do me a favor first.  Take your right shoe off."

Marian looked at me quizzically and I laughed.   "Don't worry, I won't step on your foot.  It is easier to show you what you are doing wrong this way."

Marian was not so sure about this, but dutifully removed her right shoe.  I led her through a couple moves, then quickly pointed to her bare right foot when it took two steps in a row.

"Did you see that?  You finished a move with your right foot, then you started the next move with your right foot as well."

Marian smiled tentatively.  "Ah, I think I see what you are saying.  How do I correct it?"

"The first thing is to be aware of what caused the problem.  We have that handled.  Now I need for you to consciously put weight on your right foot so your left foot comes free.  Put your shoe back on and let's try the move again."

Marian stumbled a couple more times, but it did not take long to get the problem straightened out.  Once she began to transfer her weight properly, she stopped losing her balance. 

"Thank you, Rick, that is so much easier."

"I'm glad to help."

Marian frowned.  "I am such a klutz."

"Knock it off.  I want you to stop picking on yourself.  Besides, I am glad you made that mistake."

Suspicious, Marian furrowed her eyebrows.  "What do you mean by that?"

"If dancing was easy, I wouldn't have this job.  I like to teach.  This job is the most fun I have ever had.  However, if people didn't make mistakes while learning to dance, then I wouldn't have my dream job.  That is why I welcome every mistake.  I call it Job Security."

What I said was nonsense, but it did the trick.  Marian smiled for the first time.  "I see your point.  From now on I promise to make new mistakes in class so you can demonstrate what a good teacher you are."

"Don't do that!  I might choke under the pressure."

Marian laughed a little.  "I promise to make it an easy mistake."

By being patient and gentle with her, Marian was visibly more relaxed.  Now that we had established a rapport, let's see what was really bothering her.  "Marian, can I ask you a question?"

Instantly her guard came back up.  When I saw the return of that haunted look, I wondered if I had made a mistake.  Fortunately, after some hesitation, Marian said, "Um, I guess so."

"Is there something bothering you besides losing your balance in dance class?"

She gulped, then nodded silently.

"You want to talk about it?"

She nodded again, so I pointed to some nearby chairs.  However, first I locked the front door for safety.  When I returned, Marian explained her marriage was on the rocks.  Her husband was seeing another woman and barely paid attention to his wife anymore.  

"I started taking dance lessons just so I wouldn't have sit home alone every night."

Marian began to cry.  Pretty soon the rest of the story poured out, how it started, how helpless she felt, her feelings of abandonment and so on.  The tears poured out along with her tales of woe.  Now that her husband ignored her, Marian was lonely out of her mind.  Fortunately my sympathy helped lift some of the burden.  Once she got some of the pain out of her system, Marian started to calm down.  However, I also noticed she had started to look at me in a different way.  I could not be sure, but I had a hunch.  If I didn't know better, Marian had chosen me to even the score with her cheating husband.  However, Marian wasn't sure what kind of person I was or what she was getting herself into.  Now that I had shown a decent streak, I sensed Marian wanted to chase away some of her loneliness.  Marian smiled at me with a soft, knowing look.  When she took my hand and held it, I was pretty sure I was right.

"Thank you so much for listening, Rick.  That was very sweet.  Do you mind if I ask you a question?" 

"What do you want to know?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

I knew what that meant.  Instantly I felt a certain stirring.  You know what?  Marian wasn't the only one who was lonely.  Her gesture had awakened a similar hunger of my own.  Considering I had not been near a woman in ages, I laughed and winced at the same time. 

"Uh, no girlfriend.  I've been working two jobs for the past four months.  Maybe when things calm down a bit I can look around."

With that, Marian leaned over and impulsively kissed me on the cheek.  Then she quickly pulled back.  Poor Marian, she had taken a big risk.  That was a pretty bold move.  Unsure of my response, vulnerability was written all over her face.  Looking somewhat abashed, Marian looked away.  Then her gaze returned.  "I'm sorry, Rick, I don't know what came over me.  Please forgive me."

Despite her contrition, the hunger in her gaze revealed the reason Marian had stayed behind to see me.  All I had to do was make an offer.  Feeling my pulse race, boy, did I ever want to.  We were completely alone and Stevens had his love nest hidden in the back storage room.  I had never used it, but I had a pretty good idea why that couch was there.  What should I do?  The invitation was there for the taking.  However, a small voice told me this was a bad idea.  That forced me to put on the brakes. 

"Uh, gee, you don't need to apologize, Marian.  After the way you've been treated, I imagine you are starved for affection."

Marian nodded.  "Yeah, I guess that's pretty obvious.  You know, Rick, this place is kind of creepy late at night.  Is there any chance we can continue this conversation someplace else?"

I had a good idea what that meant.  A night of passion hung in the balance.  However, I needed time to think this over.

"Sure.  Let's walk to your car."

Based on her frown, that was not the answer she wanted.  However, Marian rose quietly and we walked in silence to her car.  That gave me a chance to mull this over.  To be honest, I was fairly sure Marian wanted me to say let's go to my house.  What was stopping me?  I was a free agent and Marian was old enough to know what she wanted.  Besides, it wasn't like my reputation was at stake.  Dance teachers are typically lumped with other bad boy professions such as life guards, bartenders and hair dressers.  To be honest, I was certainly tempted.  Marian was an attractive woman.  On the other hand, Marian reminded me of Disco Dave, my very first dance teacher.

Two months before I met Dave, I had been dismissed from graduate school.  Quite frankly, I had been a basket case ever since.  This had been my very first dance class ever.  I had come in a misguided attempt to regain a semblance of confidence.  However, this had been a bad idea.  My dancing was so pathetic, I felt like a complete failure at a time when my self-esteem was already running on empty.  Maybe if I stayed after class, Dave could show me what I was doing wrong.  David offered some tips, but when I had trouble catching on, he suggested I follow him to his apartment.  We could have lunch, then spend more time solving my problem.  I knew what David was thinking.  He could see I was a lonely guy down on my luck.  I was so desperate to learn to dance that maybe David could trick me into visiting his apartment.  Drop a couple Quaaludes into a soft drink and who knows what might happen?  I could not believe his cruelty.  If ever there was a person reeling from problems, it was me.  David could tell I was straight in which case the odds were remote.  But he also knew that lonely people make poor decisions.  Why not take a shot? 

Dave had sized me up perfectly.  I was depressed, lonely, confused, totally out of control.  Get me alone in his home and soften me up with booze or drugs.  If I had one gay bone in my body, I could be David's afternoon road kill.  I did not answer, choosing instead to walk out the door.  Trembling in my car from a bad case of nerves, I kept asking why David would proposition me.  David's sucker punch had hit like a ton of bricks.  I had let down my guard and trusted him because he had been so friendly.  Why me?  David was a good-looking guy and a fabulous dancer.  No doubt he could have his pick of lovers.  So what did he need me for?  The answer was obvious... another conquest, another notch on his bed post. 

I could definitely relate to Marian's desperation.  I could also see that Marian's vulnerability made her a sitting duck.  I wouldn't even have to ask.  I could just walk her to my car and open the door.  She would likely get in without a word of protest.  I was certain a wild night awaited, but how would Marian feel the morning after?  That's what worried me.  The desire was there, but now that my conscience had kicked in, I groaned to myself.  I was hardly a saint, but this situation was a Pandora's Box best left unopened.

When we reached her car, I said, "Are you okay to drive home?"

Marian seemed a little baffled by my reluctance to take the bait.  She gave me a long hug in case I wanted to change my mind.  However, I gently disengaged and opened her car door.  Despite a keen look of disappointment, she got in.  This had been a very awkward moment.  

"Will I see you next week, Marian?"

Marian smiled wanly.  "Thank you for listening."

"You are more than welcome."

I never saw Marian again.  I assume she was too embarrassed to return.  Although I had been sorely tempted, I turned her down because she was married and, thanks to my experience with Dave, I had promised myself I would never exploit a woman down on her luck.