Halloween 2009 Best Costumes

These are the Top 10 Costumes from the 2009 Halloween Party. 

Rick Archer's Note:  If you think my decisions are misguided and your costume deserves to be on this list, try making a bribe.  That's all it takes to improve your results. 
 

Stan and Debbie as the Vikings, 2009

The 2009 Winner of the Best Costume Award: Bob and Ana plus Ana's sister

(hint: Ana is in the middle)  Here is my question:  How do they even see?  At first glance, the eyes in each costume do not appear real. 

In 2009, Bob Graham and his fiancée Ana Torres solidified their place in our Halloween Costume Hall of Fame with these great costumes.  I am fairly certain that's Ana in the middle.  That is Ana's sister beside her as well.  I have no idea what Ana's sister looks like!  What bothers me is that maybe that is what Ana's sister really looks like.  This possibility forces me to think twice about Ana.

I have never really thought about it before, but maybe Ana is an alien. No, not the swim the Rio Grande kind of alien, but rather an ET alien.  By day, Ana is a beautiful, funny, gracious blonde.  But what if that pretty face is really just a mask?  What if Ana is an extraterrestrial?  What if Halloween is the only day of the year when Ana can let down her guard and come to our parties as herself?  That would explain why Ana loves Halloween so much. Personally, if Ana does turn out to be a human, I don't know how she stays cooped up in those Halloween outfits all night long.  The amazing thing about Bob and Ana is that they stay in those hot, heavy masks for the entire evening.  How do they do it?  Most people would scream from the heat or the claustrophobia, but not these guys.  2009 was the third straight year that they stayed in costume all night long.  Personally, I don't think I could take the suffering.  Dancing is nearly impossible.  Conversation is nearly impossible.  I don't even know how they drink a glass of wine!  Maybe they use a straw.  Ana is very creative.

What I find amazing is that Ana enjoys wearing these bizarre outfits. I think Ana is beautiful and yet she could care less about being beautiful. Ana would rather be gruesome and stick out her tongue at people.  Some day she will explain it to me.  Or maybe I have already guessed the ET truth. Incidentally, 2010 was a pretty good year for Bob and Ana.  They both got dressed up in a different kind of costume and got married in March.  Rumor has it Bob and Ana stayed in their wedding costumes throughout the ceremony and reception as well.  After all, they have had more practice wearing costumes than the average guy! Don't they look happy?  These guys really know how to have fun.  In particular, I am tickled to see they didn't wear their Halloween outfits to the wedding.  My guess is Ana would have been all for it, but Bob talked her out of it.

Bob and Ana in 2008.  Bob is Chuckie.  Ana is the one with the cute hairdo.

In 2008 Bob and Ana found a buddy.  The Invisible Man (or maybe it was a woman) stayed in costume the entire night just like Bob and Ana.  Not once did we see any of their faces!!  No one knows who the Invisible Man was. Neither Bob nor Ana could help.  They told me they don't have any idea who the Invisible Man was. I guess we are lost unless the Invisible Man identifies himself.  What was especially frustrating to me about the Invisible Man was that he spoke to me like we were best friends all night long.  I am certain he is among us somewhere.

Bob and Ana in 2007

Here are their 2007 Costumes. On the left you see Bob Graham and the lovely Ana! Now I have feeling that Bob is a born mischief maker.  Look at that grin!  But who would think such a sweet, innocent-looking lady like Ana would dream of coming to a party three years in a row as a hideous monster!?! As for Ana, she is way too pretty. Bob is a lucky guy.  And yet who would ever think such a beautiful woman could turn out to be such a monster!  By the way, I have a big crush on Ana.  I think you can tell from our great picture together.  I love her big eyes. I love her big tongue. She brings out the Devil in me.  What a gal!

Rick Archer and Ana in 2007

I am sorry to say I don't know who this couple is,
but I loved their costumes! 
 

I don't think we have ever had anyone do Marie Antoinette before.
That is Omar Ayala and his fiancée Rachel Barnes

 2009 Best Group Picture- Gilligan's Island!

Lin Mills as Mrs Thurston Howell, Nancy Brand as Mr. Thurston Howell (yes, dude looks like a lady), Ed Miller as Gilligan, Bill Abbott as the Professor, Judy Foster as Mary Ann, Larry Bench as the Skipper, Glenda Lee as a dead ringer for Ginger.  Wonderful!

I would have to say the 2009 Gilligan's Island group rivals the best group we have ever had. Until now, my all-time favorite was the 2004 Wizard of Oz group featuring Dorothy.  I would have to say Gilligan's Island gives them a run for their money. I really don't want to pick a favorite, so let's call it a tie.  Both groups are terrific!! I really love our Halloween Parties.

2009 Runner-up Best Costume Honors

Rick Archer's Note: All of these costumes narrowly missed making the "2009 Best Costume" page. 
Surely there will be those who complain they deserved to be on this List.  Quit your whining and remember it is never too late to sway the judge's decision.  A Bribe in the right direction will ensure a promotion.

That is Tracy and the Big Bad Wolf.  I am not sure who that is behind the mask.  Maybe Tracy will let me know.

Loved the tie, by the way!  Nice touch.

My what big eyes he has!  And such big hands too!

I wonder if he is big all over?

I want to continue... but I'll stop here.

(A Note from Tracy -

Hey Rick..... loved the Halloween pictures from last year.  The guy (big bad wolf) in the picture  with me is Keith Rein.  Keith likes to go to your parties incognito.....but I am going to rat him out this year. 

Wasn't that a great costume?  Keith had a hat on also....but it got lost as we went thru the "maze of horror".  Anyway....you will have to ask him about "the other questions" yourself.... :-)   Tracy

Kurt and Jean, Bruce and Mara came as the Barcelona Bunch.  Don't the ladies look wonderful with their handsome husbands beside them?

All four were part of the wonderful Barcelona Cruise Trip that took place just a few weeks earlier in October 2009.

One of the highlights of the trip was watching Flamenco dancing.  Judging from those costumes, all four of them were ready to strut on the dance floor themselves.

And why not?  What better way to celebrate the memories?

Charley and Rowena 2009 

Dana and Marc are newcomers to the Halloween Best Costume page. 

Personally speaking, as beautiful as Dana is, I wouldn't come anywhere near her. Marc actually seems ready to use that sword.

Aren't they adorable?

By the way, early in 2010, Marc and Dana announced their engagement.

Congratulations!

Mike and Brenda 2008 - Joe the Plumber

Mike and Brenda in 2009 - Be True to your School!    

I don't who this couple is,
but I loved their Egyptian costumes

Kelly and Ruben were first time winners in 2009 with their Crusader and Medieval Dress costumes.  A striking couple indeed! 

I don't think I would be flirting with Kelly. Ruben is another guy who looks ready to use that sword.

Sol Eisenbaum and Leanne Parkinson
as Sylvester and Tweety Bird. Thank you,
Jackie Chang, for revealing their identity!

Sol and Leanne Parkinson have visited the Winner's
circle several times in the past. 
Here is their wonderful 2008 costume.

Jim and Marlane are perennial fixtures on the Best Costume List. Over the past ten years, I think they have missed just one Halloween Party. 

Every year they show up with an original costume they make themselves.  Last year Jim was the Crocodile Hunter and... was Marlane a crocodile?

I will admit the 2009 outfit confused me a bit as well.  I saw they had automatic weapons and camouflage suits underneath, but I didn't get the purple balloons.

Then I noticed the caption on their caps.  "Grapes of Wrath".  Ah. Got it!

I wish more costumes came with an explanation attached.

Peggy and Keith 2009
Is that makeup or is that how they wake up? 

Betty and Keith 2009

Nick and Leslie 2009

Jess and Pat 2008

Jess and Pat are yet another of the many couples who go out of their way every year to look special at our Halloween Party. 

The thing to remember is that getting a costume and then committing yourself to wearing it all evening is a lot of work.  It is time consuming to get the outfit, it is often very uncomfortable to wear it, and the stares you get wherever you stop on the way to the party can be quite embarrassing, especially when you are 6' 8" and wearing a grass skirt!

So I extend my thanks to all the people who have gone out of their way over the years to look nice for our party.  You are all wonderful!    RA

Jess and Pat 2009

 2009 Best Group Picture Runnerup -  The Crayons!

Steve, Laura, oops I forgot her name (help!), her husband Matt, and Jamie as the colorful crayon Group.

Great Costume, Guys!   I like costumes I can understand.
By the way, I like the pointy caps.  They really make the outfits work!
 

Honorable Mention

In 2009, my lovely wife Marla came as Julie McCoy from the Love Boat series.  I suppose my costume was less creative.  I came as the guy who had just spent the last 48 hours decorating for the Halloween Party and was too tired to bother with a costume.   So perhaps it is hypocritical of me to criticize others for mediocre costumes.   Maybe so, but I did slightly better in the past.   

	I suppose I deserved this, but one guy became the hit of the 1988 party by imitating my usual Halloween costume.   Jack claimed he even went to the trouble of dancing hard prior to the picture to duplicate an authentic sweating dance instructor look. Plus he came to the party with my former girlfriend. Ouch.

Rick and Marla, 2009. 

Our final SSQQ Halloween Party

Cutest Picture Award

I loved this dance picture because I liked the way this lady's long blonde hair and her hippie vest worked together to give a delightful impression of motion.

 

Runner-Up Cutest Picture Award

Honorable (?) Mention

Gary Richardson came to the 2009 party as the Floppy Wizard, a costume almost as lame as mine, pajamas and a belt.  Fortunately his lovely friend Mona rescued the picture.   Beauty and the Beast.

Honorable (?) Mention

To be frank, this boring picture has no business being here, but Bill Toliver insisted his love life needed a boost, so he begged for the extra publicity.  I told him to stop begging.

So why is this picture here?  Rhymes with Honey.

Incidentally, I am just teasing about Bill.  One time in Alaska he gave me an ice cream cone and said that obligated me to write a positive story in the Newsletter to help him become a babe magnet.  We've been going back and forth on that for years.

Here is another last addition to the Runner-up Best Costume. 

This costume did not originally make the cut. 

However, the more I stared at Lori and Joel's unusually imaginative Gangster and Flapper outfits, the more I was convinced it belonged on this year's page. 

Yeah, right.  So what is the real reason this picture is here? Joel made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

It is with deep regret that I announce that Denise and Jim's Gangster outfit did NOT make the List, but Joel's did.
 

 Chad and Allison's Gangster outfit
did NOT make the List, but Joel's did.
 

Thank you for viewing our 2009 Best Costume Page.  And my special Thanks to all of you for your many contributions throughout the years to all the great SSQQ Halloween parties.  

One last thing - it is never too late for your costume to win special recognition too.  Just ask Joel.  

And why did Joel's costume win while Jim and Denise, Chad and Allison didn't? 

Hint: Rhymes with Tribe

RA

OCTOBER 1981
 

VICTORIA LEAVES ME HANGING
 

There is an old saying... "Experience is a comb life throws you after you have lost your hair."  By the time I was finished with the 1981 Halloween Party from Hell, I was completely bald.

The arrival of October put me in a very bad mood.  With regret I observed the two year anniversary of Doorstep Night.  Allowing Victoria through my door that night had turned into my worst mistake ever.  I had spent all of 1980 and 1981 waiting on the sidelines while Victoria vacillated between me and Michael.  During this time Victoria had kept me around as her fall-back boyfriend in case her ex-husband Michael rejected her overtures to reunite. 

Victoria and I had spent 1981 slowly drifting apart when Victoria's beloved therapist Charlotte passed away in the summer.  With Charlotte deceased, I was suddenly important again.  I was willing to accept the responsibility, but wondered if it was a hopeless task.  When things were going good with Michael, I did not exist.  However, with every setback, Victoria wasted no time coming to me for solace.  Invariably she would drop hints that maybe I was the guy for her after all.  Appalled at the mere suggestion, I would shake my head and gently remind her we had been through this before. 

Then I would swiftly change her focus back to Michael and gently nudge Victoria back in his direction.  Afterwards I would be full of despair because I knew the slightest wrong move on my part could unravel everything.  In the past even the slightest hint I was considering leaving Victoria had thrown her totally off kilter.  I know this is a strange thing to say, but as long as Victoria believed she had me as her backup option, she found the courage to continue the fragile peace process with her skeptical ex-husband.  For this reason alone, I stuck to my guns on remaining faithful.  But that did not mean I was happy about this endless wait.

As things stood here in October, Victoria had made up her mind to reconnect with her former husband Michael.  However she was facing a monumental task.  Persuading Michael to forgive her had proven very difficult.   Knowing full well those scars and hurt feelings presented a formidable obstacle, Victoria's courage was very fragile, especially since progress was maddeningly slow. 

When would my Limbo Captivity end??  Due to my status at the dance studio, I knew twenty women I could ask out.  However, but my hands were tied till Victoria made her decision.  The crazy thing is that my celibacy was completely voluntary.  I could have walked away from Victoria anytime I wanted, but the success of her Reconciliation meant more to me than my longing for a real girlfriend.  Although I had my doubts whether Victoria could regain Michael trust or not, for the most part I believed a reunion with Michael was in the cards.  But when??  Fearful of upsetting the applecart, so far I managed to avoid temptation.  However I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.  Right now my loneliness was killing me.  There was only minimal progress on Victoria's Reunion Tour and the whole thing could blow up at any moment.  Victoria was trying to rebuild trust with Michael, but the damage was so great there were inevitable ups and downs.  I imagine both of them were terrified of getting hurt again, so understandably they were taking things slow.  Or maybe I should say 'snail's pace'.  At the rate they were going, I might be too old to reproduce by the time they got it right.

Since I had absolutely nothing better to do, I decided to concentrate on preparing for my fourth annual Halloween Party.  I stayed busy and tried to forget about my problems.  Victoria had promised me to help me with the Halloween Party.  However, to my surprise, as the date of the party approached, Victoria was no longer sure she would participate.  Considering Victoria had been the heart and soul of the previous three parties, this took me off guard.  But maybe her sudden reluctance was a good sign.  Was this the moment I had been waiting for?  Was Limbo Captivity about to end?  The thought of finally regaining my freedom was so delicious I could barely contain myself.  Three days before the party, the phone rang.  It was Victoria.

"Rick, please don't be upset with me, but I won't be at the party this year."

I gasped.  This was a good omen, quite possibly the light at the end of the tunnel guiding me to freedom.  For Victoria to miss this party surely meant the time of our long-awaited parting was growing short.  I had mixed feelings.  After all, my past three years had been wrapped around this woman.  There had been good times, but more often there was the neverending drama.  Despite some twinges of unexpected sadness, I was okay with Victoria's decision to skip the party.  This party could very well serve as my declaration of Freedom.  But first I had to pretend that I was going to miss her.  Victoria always needed to be sure I would be there to catch her if Michael changed his mind about getting back together.

"I know you love Halloween as much as I do.  If it is Michael you are worried about, bring him with you to the party, I won't mind. [total fib]"

"No way.  There are too many hard feelings for that to work and you know it.  I really want to be at this party, but I think all the progress I have made with Michael would be lost forever.  Too many times in the past I have chosen the studio and you over Michael and I can't take any more chances.  I hope you understand."

Holy Smokes!  At first I gulped at the thought of supervising this big party by myself.  But then I steeled myself.  Oh well, no matter.  I shrugged and told myself I could handle it on my own.  Even better, maybe I could have some fun for a change. 

"Yes, Victoria, of course I understand, but it will be strange running the party on my own.  After all, you were instrumental in organizing our first three Halloween parties."

"You're right, the Halloween Party is my baby.  It breaks my heart to skip this one, but Michael would go ballistic if I didn't stay with him.  I can't risk antagonizing him at this stage.  He wants to go to some boring party with his hospital friends and I said I would go.  Oh boy, lots of doctors with gruesome fake blood smeared on their scrubs.  How imaginative."

I smiled hopefully.  Does this mean I have my freedom back?  I immediately thought of Bob Job.  He had guaranteed his Strange Brew would liven things up, but so far I had said no because Victoria said it was a bad idea.  However, now that I could do things my own way, I might just give him a call.  At that exact moment, Victoria read my mind.

"By the way, Richard, I am counting on you to behave.  Don't you dare let Bob get everyone drunk.  And I expect you to honor our understanding.  Don't you dare touch another woman during this delicate time!  I cannot bear the stress of dealing with any more problems than I have already.  Do I have your word?"

Damn her!  I hesitated.  Do I break free or do I reassure her?  Crossing my fingers for King's X, I replied, "Don't worry, Victoria, I will be on my best behavior."

Like hell I would.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.'

OCTOBER 1981
 

HIRING THE ENTERTAINMENT
 

Astrologically, October is supposed to be my time of year.  As a Scorpio, I am supposed to be fascinated with the Occult and the Hidden Side of things.  That is definitely true.  In particular I love Halloween.  While most people prefer Christmas, I prefer Halloween.  I get a big kick out of the costumes, the monsters and the legends.  As a result, making the SSQQ Halloween Party special has always been a heart-felt labor of love. 

Now that Victoria had removed her shackles, I had free rein to do things my way.  I asked myself what I could do to make this year's party amazing.  In a flash I had the perfect solution... I should hire Glen's sexy jazz dancers to perform at my party!

Glen Hunsucker was important to me in two ways.  To begin with, he had been my dance teacher for the past three years.  In addition, he was my landlord.  Without any warning, two years ago my former boss Lance Stevens had thrown me out of his dance studio.  I had two weeks to find a new place for 500 dance students.  Talk about a jam!  By coincidence (there's that word again) Glen had just moved into his new (and quite expensive) studio.  His new studio had three large dance rooms, but I noticed so far he only used one of them at night.  Glen had told me he hoped to expand gradually, but I had a better idea.

"Glen, how about you let me move my Country-Western program into your studio and let me have those two rooms that go empty every night?  My rent will solve your financial problems."

As it turned out, I was the answer to his prayer at the same time he was the answer to my prayer.  With his rent eating him alive, Glen welcomed the merger.  I was saved! 

Glen lived for his jazz dance company.  In addition to being a gifted dancer in his own right, Glen took great pride in training his youthful dance company comprised of high school seniors and college students.  Glen was a marvelous choreographer whose talented dancers reflected his creativity.  My only regret was not seeing Glen himself dance in his shows.  Glen preferred not to perform in his shows for fear he would dominate his proteges.  Although he was right, I selfishly wished Glen would change his mind.  Glen was by far the best male dancer I ever saw. 

Ever since I moved to Dance Arts a year ago, at least one night a week I would hang around after my classes ended to watch the dancers rehearse for their next show.  There were some exceptionally attractive women in Glen's dance company.  I loved to adore them from afar.  I was 30 at the time.  Due to the ten-year difference in our ages, they were too young for me to consider dating.  However, they were definitely old enough for me to appreciate.  In addition to ogling Glen's lovely young ladies during rehearsal, I had been to several of their performances.  The dancing of these well-curved nymphets knocked my socks off. 

These girls were so sexy I often wished I could treat my C&W students to a show.  Indeed, Glen's jazz dancers were totally amazing, but I was the only one who knew this.  Since their performances were held at gay bars, it was impractical to invite my students to see the company perform.  Nor had they seen them practice at Dance Arts.  To begin with, Glen's rehearsals took place after my classes finished at 9 pm.  In addition, Glen closed the door to Room One to ensure privacy.

In awe of their talent, I wanted my students to see how electric Glen's dance company was.  Why not hire them to perform at the Halloween Party?  However, Victoria said no.  Despite her undying love for Glen, Victoria advised against bringing the dance company to a studio party.  Victoria thought Glen's choreography was too suggestive and the costumes too skimpy.  Victoria had a point.  Glen was from the Vegas school when it came to performing.  Glen believed in making it flashy and enticing.  The best way to describe his dance performances was 'hot hot hot'.  And that was an understatement.  Glen believed in revealing costumes and highly suggestive routines.  He explained many of his dancers hoped to make a living as professionals dancers.  If so, it was in their best interest to get used to provocative dancing in skimpy skin-tight outfits.  Start them young, the sooner they could shed their inhibitions. 

Despite Victoria's misgivings, I knew those dancers would be a sensation at my party.  Glen had started his dance company about the same time as I moved in.  Since the company was new, they had no reputation.  Over the past year, Glen had complained to me about his trouble finding enough bookings to keep the dancers busy.  If too much time elapsed between acts, their focus would dwindle.  His bellyaching is what gave me the idea to ask Glen to let his company to perform at my Halloween Party.  However, first I had to get Glen's permission to even hold this year's party.  As expected, a huge frown crossed his face when I brought up the subject.

"Another Halloween Party?  Rick Archer, are you out of your mind?  Have you forgotten what happened last year?"

I instantly turned pale white.  Glen was referring to the Dance Wax episode, one of the worst mistakes of my life.  It was October 1980.  I had just moved in with my C&W program and the adjustment period had been a bit rocky.  Having a studio full of young female dancers wearing form-fitting jazz tights had quite an effect on the grown men in my Western classes.  For a while there, the men had acted like this was their first visit to a nudist colony.  After Glen complained, I had to remind the guys to knock it off.  Once the men learned to keep a discrete distance and not pant quite so openly when the girls walked by, the awkwardness dissipated.  Everyone got used to everyone and we were in the process of becoming one big happy family.  Unfortunately, holding dance parties had never been discussed before.  To my dismay, when I asked Glen if I could hold a Halloween Party, he was very skeptical.  After much persuasion, Glen finally said okay, but only if I agreed to his conditions.  

"You will have to pay extra rent and you will need to bring in your own sound equipment.  You will make sure the studio is clean afterwards and that all the decorations come down the next day.  Otherwise this will be your last party."

On the night of the 1980 Halloween Party, a visitor begged me to let him use some dance wax he had brought along.  This was a new request.  I knew absolutely nothing about dance wax.  I had never heard of it before or how it was supposed to be used.  Back when I worked at Stevens of Hollywood, whenever my group went dancing, we would leave the studio and go to some club.   As a result, I knew nothing about how to care for a dance floor.

I looked at the man and decided the idea of dance wax didn't sound dangerous.  This seemed like an innocent request, so I said sure, go ahead and use it.  Then I walked away to attend to my next Halloween Party chore.  To make his girlfriend happy, the man sprinkled the entire contents from two cans across the floor.  Only one problem.  This guy did not know anything about dance wax!!  We instantly discovered this dance wax was murder.  The wax coated the entire floor with a surface so slick we could have played ice hockey in there.  What a nightmare!!  Unable to dance without fear of falling down, everyone complained.  Ordinarily a little dance wax is useful for sliding your feet in Western dancing, but this was ridiculous.  People were even having trouble standing up!  Soon my ears were burning.  You have no idea how many people chewed me out. 

Sick to my stomach, I got out a broom and swept the stuff up.  It did no good. The damn stuff was glued to the floor.  With no idea what the antidote was, the dance wax effectively killed my party an hour early.  I watched helplessly as my guests shrugged their shoulders and took off.  I was fit to be tied.  After everyone left, I got a mop and worked over the entire floor.  It did not do a bit of good.  I did not have a clue how to get this wax off the floor.  After two hours of futility, I was exhausted.  Well past midnight, I decided I had no choice but give up and go home. 

A few hours later I was awakened by a phone call.  It was Glen calling on a Sunday morning.  The moment I answered, he started screaming at me about the dance wax!!  Glen was furious that I had ruined his floor.   His jazz dancers were there for rehearsal, but they were completely unable to dance.  Jazz dancing requires quick stops and changes of direction.  Each time a dancer would try to plant her foot, her foot would keep going.  With absolutely no traction, the dancers were afraid of hurting themselves, much less being able to dance.  My mistake had caused a fiasco!

Glen's immediate solution was to move his rehearsal to the backroom where I held my classes.  Although the room was much too small, at least this floor had no wax in it.  On Monday morning, Glen hired a man to get the wax up professionally. The bill (which of course I had to pay) was over $500.  That bill really stung.  That was a lot of money for me in those early days of my career.

However, the clean-up money was nothing compared to the psychic pain.  I stayed in Glen's doghouse for an entire year over that incident.  He reminded me of my stupidity at least once a month.  And now that I was asking permission to hold another party, Glen was angry all over again.  For a good ten minutes Glen raked me over the coals.  He made me beg, crawl, and plead before he finally relented to let me use the studio again.  However he added that if I screwed again, I could begin looking for a new home.  I had meant to bring up the subject of hiring his dancers, but Glen was so grouchy I decided to take Victoria's advice and not say a word. 

Two small coincidences changed everything.  First Victoria said she was not coming to this year's party.  Second, I had a private dance lesson with Glen the following morning.  to my surprise, he complained again about the problem of finding bookings.  Hmm.  Funny Glen should bring that up at the exact moment Victoria was not around to issue her veto.  If I did not know better, I had just been given an omen!  Besides, I was not a kid anymore.  I had reached the age where my brain went from saying "I really shouldn't do that" to "what the hell, let's see what happens."

"Hey, Glen, I have an idea.  Why don't you let me hire your dance company to perform at this weekend's Halloween Party?"

To my surprise, Glen hesitated. 

"I wish you had asked sooner, Rick.  However, I like your idea.  I think I can make this work.  First I'll have to see who is free to appear on short notice.  Stick around after your classes tonight and I will ask my dancers who can free up their Saturday evening for a 15 minute performance.  Most of them are starving artists, so I imagine they will appreciate getting paid as a reward for all the practice they've put in.  Unfortunately, I have another engagement that night, so I won't be there myself.  Don't worry, they'll show up.  My dancers are pros.  You can count on them to put on a good show."

Later that night Glen tracked me down in the hallway to say six of his dancers had agreed to perform, one man and five women.  And yes, since I asked, they would perform two Jungle Fever numbers.  He said to look for them to arrive around 10:45 pm.  That's all he said, so I left it at that.  I was excited.  This would be my first chance to see these pretty girls dance the new routine in costume.  I fully expected the performance would bring down the house.  And so it did!  But not quite the way I expected it to.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.'

OCTOBER 1981
 

ONE STEP CLOSER TO DISASTER

In previous chapters, I offered a slew of reasons why I had every right to thoroughly dislike Bob Job.  To refresh your memory, here is what I said.

"Why do I like Bob Job?  I asked myself that question all the time.  Bob was smarter than me.  Bob was funnier than me.  Bob made more money than me.  Bob beat me at chess.  Bob was sarcastic and liked to give me a hard time.  Bob pointed out he had plenty of girlfriends while I was stuck with useless you-know-who.  Bob forced me to see two of the worst movies ever filmed, Travolta's fake sequel (Urban Cowboy) and Travolta's real sequel (Staying Alive).  Twice he got me more drunk than at any other time in my life.  Seriously, to this day I don't why I kept him around." 

In other words, Bob was the worst best friend of all time and he knew it.  Moreover, he knew he had let me down in the past.  So guess what he did to make amends?  Bob promised he would deliver the BEST HALLOWEEN PARTY OF ALL TIME!  And stupid me, I believed him.  Consequently, the moment Victoria opened the door with her absence, my next phone call went to Bob Job, the Mad Scientist. 

"Hey, Bob, do you remember saying you have a great idea on how to improve this year's Halloween party?"

Bob replied, "I am so glad you asked!  Back in college I was always in charge of mixing the brew for my frat parties.  You will be pleased.  I can mix a wicked punch!"

Just what I wanted to hear!  "Oh really?  Tell me more!"

"My strange brew will definitely liven things up.  You have obviously forgotten that I am a master chemist.  Thanks to my amazing ability to add the right ingredients in the correct ratio to the punch, I can assure you with complete confidence my skill will make this the best party you have ever thrown."

Bob was singing my song!  Caught up in his enthusiasm, I was convinced this was a great idea.  With little thought to the consequences, I gave him carte blanche to go about his mission.  And so my rash decision to put Bob in charge of the punch had just paved the way for the Halloween Party From Hell.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.'

OCTOBER 1981
 

BOYS WILL BE BOYS
 

Victoria's sudden withdrawal had opened the door for my unchecked impetuosity.  During my two years of Limbo Captivity, my dance studio had grown by leaps and bounds for a very curious reason.  How do I say this without being too offensive?  I was the kid in the candy store.  Left to my own devices, over the past two years I very well could have frittered my time away playing the field.  However, my Captivity kept me in check.  The absence of a functioning girlfriend had created vast amounts of free time which I used to grow my program with laser-beam focus.  So far 1981 had been my Brightest Day, the most successful year of my career.  Following this tidal wave of success, I wanted my Halloween Party to be the absolute grand triumph.  Who needs Victoria?  I would use this party to prove I could drive this car just fine without Victoria's help.  And so, lacking Victoria's wisdom to curb my ambition, I used my sudden freedom to match Bob's Wicked Wizard Punch with my Jungle Fever surprise.

Back when I was 8, the movie Hercules Unchained had made a big impression on me.  Hercules drinks from a magic spring and is hypnotized by a harem girl.  He loses his memory and becomes the weakling plaything of a wicked Queen.  Of course at the end of the movie Hercules remembers who he is.  Freed from the shackles of his mind, Hercules goes on a rampage and slays all the bad guys.

Due to my prolonged thirst, I was more than ready to go on a rampage of my very own.  Victoria's departure had opened the cage.  I was free to indulge my long-awaited desire to chase women.  Although I promised myself I had no intention of chasing women at the party, this was self-deception at its worst.  Deep down, I was dying to let loose.  Despite Victoria's invisible strings, I saw no reason why I couldn't at least scout for future girlfriends given the circumstances, maybe line up a few prospects for the much-anticipated Liberation Day sure to be just around the corner.

It's my party and I'll do what I want!  Rick Unchained!  Coming as a footloose and fancy free Sailor Boy, I planned to dance with abandon, flirt at every opportunity, do whatever I please.  At first I had been nervous, but now I tingled with excitement at running the party alone for the first time.  I wanted to prove to myself I could throw a successful Halloween Party without Victoria's help.  What was there to worry about?  Put up the decorations and get the music ready!  What else did I have to do?   Not much really.  Figuring the Halloween Party would pretty much run itself, I decided to concentrate on having fun.  As one can imagine, my frivolous attitude was dangerous.  I was far more interested in having a good time than I was in being a responsible studio owner who keeps a careful eye on the proceedings.  Which is another way of saying the party lacked adult supervision.

Oh, one more thing.  Without Victoria around, I was free to drink as much as I wanted. 

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.' 

OCTOBER 1981
 

THE PARTY BEGINS
 

Bob insisted he was taking his role as Brew Master very seriously.  I gave him a hard time and said he was exaggerating as usual.  However, it turned out Bob was not kidding.  Bob was really good at this.

Bob had found the perfect costume for the occasion.  Dressed as the Mad Wizard with cloak and conical Magician's hat, Bob certainly looked the part as he stirred his concoction.  Bob cleverly added dry ice to give his work the appearance of a mystical Wizard's Potion.  The resulting illusion was quite impressive.  The eerie smoke emanating from the Wizard's Cauldron added to the illusion of a magical, mystical Strange Brew.

Nor did it hurt that Carol, Bob's attractive date, served as his Magician's Assistant.  At the start of the party, everyone got in line so Carol could ladle up the brew with a big smile.  Carol stayed busy because there were plenty of people ready to give the punch a try.  As Carol filled each person's cup, with an evil wink she warned them to watch out, Bob was trying to poison the entire party.  Then she would cackle....  Bwha ha ha ha!

Carol's remark was very ironic.  No truer words had ever been spoken.  And so the ensuing bacchanalia beckoned.

Typically dance parties take their time to warm up.  Not tonight.  Bob's Strange Brew worked like a charm.  Thanks to the Wicked Wizard Punch, the party quickly burst into animation.  Throughout the night, Bob hovered over his Wizard's Cauldron making sure there was an ample supply for everyone.  Bob's concoction not only tasted delicious, it had our guests smiling from the get-go.  Bob was beaming from head to toe.  As well he should.  Bob was the star of the night!  Everyone was having such a blast, they wasted no time misbehaving.    We danced, we laughed, we carried on, we made complete fools of ourselves.  The costumes were amazing, the women were beautiful, one of the men came dressed as a hopeful sperm cell, the music was great, the dance floor was mobbed, the party was perfect. 

Gosh we were having fun!  We were young and bold with a night ahead that promised great adventure.

"Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end.  We'd sing and dance forever and a day..."
 

OCTOBER 1981

JIM FOGO

There was an interesting sub-plot to the party.  As I have said, we had a cast of characters at the studio that rivaled anyone the script writers of Cheers could come up with.  One of those characters was a lawyer named Jim Fogo.  He was a very unique guy.  Jim insisted we call him 'Fogo'.  He said no one had ever forgotten his name because he was the only 'Fogo' in the Universe.  Come to think of it, he was probably right about that. 

Fogo brought his camera along to the party.  As it turned out, this was a wonderful break for me.  Fogo's photographs would later allow me to chronicle the incredible events of the night.

Based on cursory observation, I concluded Fogo loved to chase women.  And he was good at it.  To begin with, Fogo was a consummate BSer.  I never met anyone quicker with a line than Fogo.  However, it was his skillful use of the camera that impressed me the most.  As Jim explained it, women love to get their pictures taken.  Even better, beautiful women in costumes find cameras IRRESISTIBLE.

Fogo used his camera to track the two most beautiful women at the party all night long.  One was Liz, the Gypsy in red.  The other was Cynthia, the Angel in white.  Wherever these two ladies went, Jim was right there taking their pictures. 

OCTOBER 1981

TEMPTATION

Prior to the party, I created a long preprogrammed tape of music which played on endless loop.  This was a good move because it freed me from DJ duty.  Untethered to the music, I was able to roam around and look for trouble.  Trust me, I had no difficulty finding it.  To begin with, I was first in line for Wizard Bob's Magic Punch.  In practically no time at all, I was toast.  By the time I made my second visit, I had lost all interest in being a respectable host.  All I wanted to do was indulge myself and have fun.  

The women at this party were so attractive.  Wherever I turned, there was another beauty to capture my heart.  At all times, my promise to Victoria was somewhere in the back of my mind.  However, I figured if I drank enough, I could overlook my vow to behave by the end of the evening. 

Seriously, what could Victoria do about it if I chose to indulge in guilty pleasure?  Leave me?  Oh gee, what a threat!  Nevertheless, I somehow managed to keep my hands to myself.  It was not easy, but I kept my distance during the early evening.  However, as the evening wore on, that distance grew shorter and shorter.  The distance grew especially short when an exceptionally beautiful woman named Liz asked me to dance. 

Maybe it was Bob's Magic Punch fueling my imagination, but Liz seemed to take a shine to me.  Be still my beating heart!   Liz was not just beautiful, she was brilliant.    She was head nurse of her unit at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the city.  When it came to Liz, I had definitely met my match.  Beauty, brains, sexy as all get-out.  I continued to dance with other women and circulate through the party, but my eyes returned to Liz all night long.  'Look but Don't Touch'?  Give me a break.  I had a sneaking suspicion my two years abstinence were about to come to an end tonight.  My virtue had never been in more peril.

For the first two hours, the Halloween Party was a spectacular success.  Truth be told, if things had ended at 11 pm, the 1981 Party would have gone down as our best Halloween Party ever.  Everything was perfect.  But then the Downfall began.

OCTOBER 1981

JUNGLE FEVER
 

At 10:45, a young man named Keith found me on the dance floor.  He and the five girls were here for the performance.  The time had come for my big surprise.  Aha!  I was about to satisfy my longtime desire to share Glen's fabulous dance company with my students.  Not would their performance thrill my crowd, it would help build the reputation of Glen's dance company.  I was dying to give something back to this man who had been so good to me.

In particular, I wanted to see Glen's latest dance number, the one he referred to as 'Jungle Fever'.  I had seen the dancers rehearse several times over the past month, but they always dressed in leotards, never in costume.  This was such an incredible number that I was dying to see it performed in costume.  As luck would have it, here was my big chance.  

Some people say what you don't know won't hurt you.  Nonsense.  Victoria's instincts told her two things that had never occurred to me in my life.  One, she believed some of our men were too immature to handle the allure of Glen's female dancers if they decided to turn it on.  Two, she was certain our women would be royally irritated if the female dancers came dressed in their highly revealing outfits.  But did she tell me this?  No.  Due to her silence, I had to discover these problems the hard way.  Incidentally, learning things the Hard Way is my specialty.  First the Dance Wax, now this.

Unfortunately, men don't always see things the same way women do.  I knew for a fact that my guys would go out of their minds with joy if I shared this vision of glory.  I would be the most popular guy in history for bringing these stunning women before their eyes.  Besides, I wanted to see the girls perform for my own selfish reason.  These women turned me on!  It's my party and I'll do what I want!!

After letting me know the girls were here, he handed me the music for the performance.  Then Keith asked for the key to Glen's office so the girls could change in there.  Rather than give him the key, I followed Keith to the office and let the girls in.  When they said they would be ready in five minutes, I raised an eyebrow.  What I did not realize is their outfits were under their clothes.  All they had to do was take their outer garments off.  To my surprise, they disrobed right in front of me.  I gasped.  Good grief, these girls wore the skimpiest outfits I had ever seen! 

Oh shit, now I understood what Victoria had objected to.  But it was too late now.  I went back out to announce to the crowd that I had a big surprise for them.  Fortunately, the girls had brought large white robes like one might wear to a hotel swimming pool.  Wearing their robes, Keith and the five women walked into the Big Room to perform for us.  The unsuspecting crowd of 125 parted to make room.

As he passed by, Keith said he would signal when to start the music.  The six dancers went to a corner on the far side of the room and dropped their robes.  The moment the guests realized Keith and the five ladies were almost completely naked, a collective gasp filled the room.  The moment I saw the startled reaction of the audience, I took a deep gulp.  I'm not sure why, but I suddenly had a very bad premonition about this.

Can you spell "D-E-B-A-U-C-H-E-R-Y"?  Right from the get-go, these girls danced with wild abandonment, giving frenzied merit to the Jungle Fever concept.  My eyes were wider than saucers.  I had no idea those girls had such amazing bodies!  And their jazz dancing was awesome.  My guests were treated to some truly spectacular dance entertainment  Halfway into the routine, the girls really turned it on.  This is when their jazz dancing veered into dangerous territory.  With every curve of their perfect bodies on display, we were treated to the most uninhibited display of raw erotic sensuality I had ever seen on a dance floor.  The dancing was not vulgar, but it was definitely lurid. 

The men could not believe how wild these girls were.  To begin with, the girls were so confident of their figures, they were not at all modest.  Their skimpy outfits left nothing to the imagination and the guys loved it.  The men were practically falling over each other to get a better view.  With great bodies and reckless dancing, the girls' effect on inebriated men was nothing short of lethal.  Shocked to see beautiful girls move in such sensual ways, the men were totally in lust.  Some guys were so aroused they shouted cat-calls and invited the girls to remove what little they had on.  I was stunned. 

Unfortunately the women in the audience had the exact opposite reaction.  They were not pleased to see the women perform.  From the moment the girls dropped their robes, the female guests shot me one disapproving glance after another.  If looks could kill!  

Swept up in the performance, I really didn't care what the women thought.  I was far too mesmerized by the skill of each dancer.  They were poetry in motion.  Although the women were in shock at the tantalizing outfits, I had never seen more grateful men in my life.  There were no chairs, so some people stood against the wall while others sat on the floor.  The men quickly pushed the women to the back of the pack so they could get front row views.  These dancing girls were unbelievably attractive!

The six dancers put on quite a show, maybe even too good.  Their dancing was vivid, suggestive, and arousing.   The girls shimmied their chests, shook their hips, and gyrated with abandonment.   Glen had told me he meant for his Vegas-style dancing to be sexy and provocative.  Judging from the male reactions, Glen succeeded.  The men were panting with desire.  This was the night I discovered what happens when you mix Wicked Wizard Punch with Wicked Wanton Dancing Girls.  To my undying shame, the men grew even bolder as they screamed their heads off with wolf calls and howls.   

By the time the first number was over, the men were barely hanging onto any semblance of self-control.  Too many bouncing breasts.  Too many long legs.  Too many bare waists and inviting smiles.  These girls were so sexy that every guy in the place was turned on.  The disapproving women had moved to the back while the inebriated men made their way to the cheering section in front.  They sat on the floor right in front of the girls, some as close as five feet away.  The moment the men started howling like wolves, the situation became very uncomfortable.  Seeing the men scream their heads off with unabashed lust, I wondered how I would ever regain control of the moment.  I also noticed how shocked the wives and dates were at the men's shameful titty-bar behavior.  Filled with panic, I got up to turn on the lights.  However, the girls beat me to the punch.  They were supposed to dance a second number, but instead Connie, the leader, ordered the other four girls to cut their performance short and follow her. 

"Forget the goddamn robes!" Connie screamed.  "Head for the door!  Run, damn it!"

To everyone's surprise, right in the middle of wild, raucous applause, the five women sprinted across the room to safety.  Keith was taken aback, but he grabbed the white robes and followed right behind.  These girls weren't stupid.  Based on our reaction to the Jungle Fever number, I think they were frightened by their overwhelming effect on drunken men.  In addition, I think the girls felt trapped.  Surrounded by a panting throng of men, their only exit was at the far end of the room.  With their backs to the wall, there would be no escape if things got out of hand.  Noticing the blatant lust of the mob, they decided to get the hell out of there while they still could. 

Connie was in her mid-20s, but the other girls were much younger.  One girl was a high school senior and the other three were college age.  Previously these young ladies had only performed on remote stages in gay bars where the men were not quite so vulnerable to their ample charms.  I hate to say it, but my drunken mob was a first for the younger ones.  I doubt these ladies had ever realized the full effect of their gorgeous bodies and dancing ability on the libido of drunken heterosexuals.  Several men were close enough to grab them if they chose to.  It must have been very intimidating.  Connie was smart.  By telling to the girls to run, they were gone before their admirers could express their appreciation by grabbing them. 

Once out of the room, Connie told the four girls to go straight to the cars.  She and Keith stayed behind to collect the clothes, then they left too.  But not before Connie chewed me out big time.  "What the fuck did you get us into!!  Glen is going to be really pissed!"

First the Dance Wax, now this.  I was in serious trouble. 

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.' 

OCTOBER 1981

ANIMAL HOUSE

Toga! Toga!  Right before my disbelieving eyes, SSQQ turned into Animal House.  With their inhibitions shattered behind Wicked Wizard's Punch and Wicked Jungle Fever, the men were barely under control.  In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would see men behave like frat-party gropers at my studio.  The painful memory of hearing men wail in heat at the writhing, serpentine movements of the women was unbearable. 

Poof!  Thank goodness the dancers disappeared before anyone could grab them.  And don't think for a moment the men didn't want to.  The moment the dancing girls left the room, chaos ensued.  The men were so overwhelmed with lust, they did not know what to do with themselves.  For a while they just sat there in stupefied wonder praying the women would return and grant them an encore.  However, once they accepted the dancing girls were not coming back, the men were so worked up they raced to the Punch Room for another round of drinking.

Aroused and twitching from an excess of libido, there was a sudden outbreak of the kind of grabbing and groping one might expect at a Frat Party gone wild.  The men began pawing their dates and wives with mixed results.  A few women were drunk enough to respond in kind, but the majority were offended.  For that matter, some men grabbed women who weren't necessarily their dates or wives.  Any available female would do.  The ladies did not appreciate being fondled.  Several men got slapped while others were strongly chastised. 

There were a lot of angry women in the room.  They were appalled to see the men behave like blithering idiots.  Furious at being pawed and frisked, the women were looking for someone to blame.  Take a guess who they took their wrath out on.  One woman after another chewed me out for inviting 'pornographic dancers' to appear.  I hate to admit it, but the women had every right to be angry.  As they pointed out, if I was going to bring naked women into the party, I should have at least warned them in advance.  I tried to explain I did not know the girls would be naked, but no one believed me.  Another reason for the intense anger was the potency of Bob's punch which had inspired such lewd behavior.  The women did appreciate seeing the punch and erotic dancing turn their men into rabid sex fiends. 

It was not a pretty scene.   I have to admit watching the men make fools of themselves disturbed me as well.  The men were hootin' and hollerin' like madmen.  The anguished sexual frenzy written on their faces was completely inappropriate.  And it was my fault. 

With the men hopelessly out of control, many women decided to put an end to this humiliation.  They grabbed their husbands and dates by the hair and hauled them out of the building.  The women were determined to get their man out of there before he made some mistake he would come to regret.   Boy, was I in the doghouse!  As each woman passed me on the way out, they made sure to voice their displeasure with a dirty look or nasty comment.  The desertion rate was phenomenal.  In the blink of an eye, 80% of the guests cleared out. 

We had started with a crowd around 125.  Now we were down to 30 or so remaining guests.  I was crushed to discover my Jungle Fever idea had been a huge mistake.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but inviting the dancers had really backfired.

'Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair.' 

OCTOBER 1981

THE GROUP PHOTOGRAPH

Jim Fogo had been busy photographing the Jungle Fever performance.  Now he wanted to take a group photograph.  Noting how our guests were leaving in droves, Jim was so alarmed he suggested we do a group photograph pronto before anyone else could escape. 

Jim was right, so I told him I would round up the survivors and bring them into the Big Room.  We took the Group Photo around 11:30 pm.  Due to the mass exodus, the resulting group photograph had only 21 people in it. 

Imagine doing some so stupid that 100 guests would leave!  Thank goodness I was not sober or I would have really been kicking myself.  We were nearly three hours into the 9 pm party.  Meanwhile Sailor Boy was making a steady descent to oblivion.  I was angry because I had ruined my party.  Indeed, I had paid a stiff price for my indiscretion.  But you know what?  Right now I was too drunk to care.  Three sheets to the wind, I decided to save the worry till tomorrow. 

Besides, I had other things on my mind.  Shortly before the photograph was taken, Liz, the beautiful gypsy girl, had made a point to disengage from Fogo and move closer to me.  Fogo was supremely irritated.  He had been after Liz hot and heavy all night long, so her last-second desertion rubbed him the wrong way.

To my delight, I felt Liz place her hand on my back and squeeze.  A very good sign indeed!  The temptation to put my arm around the Gypsy's waist was so distracting that I was able to forget I had chased 100 guests out of the building with poor judgment.  So what?  I was absolutely certain Liz was the girl I had been waiting for.  She was most exciting woman I had met since, uh, well, Victoria.  Liz had one huge advantage over Victoria.  She was single. 

Feeling the warmth of her touch, I was certain that Limbo Captivity would end tonight.  At last.  I could hardly wait! 

OCTOBER 1981
 

BOB PAVES THE ROAD TO RUIN

Bob Job had been the undisputed star of the evening.  Using the power of his Wizard's Punch, Bob had set the party on fire.  Now as we took the Group Photo, I wondered where the Wicked Wizard had gotten to.  Five minutes ago Bob had told me he would be there for the picture, but now he was missing.  Bob's sudden disappearance should have raised an alarm bell.  However, with the stunning Elizabeth on my mind, I was far too wasted away in Magic Punch Land to be paying proper attention. 

So what happened to Bob?  As the remaining guests gathered for the group picture, Bob was out of sight in the adjoining Drink Room.  He was busy replenishing the Magic Brew, but planned to stop when it was time to join us for the Group Photo.  That is when his date Carol said not so fast.  Carol was livid!  Apparently Bob had shown way too much enthusiasm for the dance perfomance, so Carol decided to put her foot down.  And so poor Bob became another casualty of the massive female backlash. 

When Carol informed him it was time to go, Bob knew better than to protest.  "We can go, Carol, but give me five minutes to finish refreshing the Wizard's Cauldron."

Carol frowned mightily, but gave permission.  "Make it snappy!" she barked.  Carol did not help matters.  Her fury made her impatient.  Bob would later admit he had been a little too candid in his appreciation for the sexy Dancing Girls.  Bob claimed his only sin had been clapping too loudly, but added he may have whistled once or twice. 

My guess is Bob had gone further than he was willing to admit.  The upshot is that Carol was angry, really angry.  "Hurry up, goddamnit!  It's time to go, Bob!"

Under intense pressure to get this done as fast as possible, Bobby Wizard made a catastrophic error.  Staring at his Wizard's Cauldron, Bob had a problem.  He still had two bottles of Ever Clear left, one and a half more than he needed.  Hmm.  What should he do with the excess?

In his haste to leave, Bob decided he didn't have time to bag everything up and take it home.  Looking at the Ever Clear, Bob decided there wasn't that much left anyway, so he poured his remaining supply into the Cauldron.  Then he added enough punch to fill the Cauldron to the brim.  A few quick stirs and he was done.  Carol grabbed his ear and dragged him to the car.

Bob had left the party without bothering to warn anyone the Punch was stronger than usual. 

After the Group Photo was over, the 21 remaining guests made a stampede to the Drink Room.  Bob was nowhere to be seen, but we were delighted to see the Wizard had left a present for us.  There it was, the Smoking Cauldron full of a new batch of delicious punch.  Yum! 

This was no longer ordinary punch.  This was Knock-Out Punch.  We never had a chance.  Maybe Bob was a little drunk himself and not thinking clearly, but the punch he left behind was a killer.  Bob's unwise decision had placed the remaining guests on the Eve of Destruction. 

OCTOBER 1981

BACCHANALIA

The sexy jazz performance had totally altered the rhythm of the party.  I had been given a first-hand lesson in how Men's Clubs stay in business.  For example, I learned that watching naked women dance makes men thirsty.  Sure enough, immediately after the Group Photo, the thirsty men wolfed down a quick round of Bob's Wicked Wizard Punch, then helped themselves to more.  Not to be outdone, the few remaining women did their fair share of drinking too.  I had never seen so much drinking at an SSQQ party before. 

The Smoking Cauldron called to us!  "Drink me!  You know you want me!  Drink me!"

And drink we did.  Woowee!  Boy, does that punch taste good!  Let's have some more!  Like fools we kept going back for more.  Unaware that Bob had made his Wicked Wizard Punch twice as deadly, we drank as if there were no consequences.  

Talk about Sucker Punch!  Totally blind to Bob's Trojan Horse, we had no idea.  In no time at all there was not one remotely sober person left in the building.  That included me.  I was way too blitzed to pay much attention to much of anything besides Liz.  I was so drunk I was barely holding on to consciousness.  Completely out of control, I made a serious mistake. Typically the party is still going strong at Midnight. That is when I announce "Last Song!"

At this point the remaining guests are kind enough to stick around and help me clean up.  With everyone pitching in, the place is clean in about 30 minutes and we all go home.  Unfortunately, I was so Dizzy for Lizzie, I let the party continue.  As we shall see, I would pay dearly for this mistake. 

Despite my stupor, I could tell that something was wrong, very wrong.  For one thing, the dance floor was deserted.  After the Group Photo, the dancing had trouble starting up again.  It wasn't like we didn't try.  A half-dozenguests attempted to dance, but it was soon obvious that no one could stand up.  After a couple of songs, everyone gave up and left the dance floor.  It was very strange to see the dancing stop completely. 

Unable to dance, the men moved on to the next stage.  First the men took their lady partners back to the Drink Room for another round of punch.  Then they headed for the exit door.  Only one problem.  Most of them could barely walk.  Realizing they were too drunk to drive, they decided to stay a while longer.  6 or so people left while they still could, but the remaining 14 drifted to the long Hallway to find a couch and collapse.  Drunk out of their minds, the Left Behinds acted like stark raving maniacs.  Some laughed hysterically.  Others wandered up and down the hallway like aimless zombies.  

Flush with fever, the men had one thing on their mind... find a woman!  Fortunately for them, the few women who stuck around had something similar on their mind... find a man!  Once everyone paired off, they went back for more drink to stir their arousal.    After that, the men lured their partners onto the hallway couches.  The women were far too gone to put up much resistance.  Down to fourteen people, everyone found a chair or couch to fall down on.  There were five couples and four extra men. 

And where was I?  Oh, I don't want to tell you what happened next, but I don't have a choice.  Shortly after the Group Photo, Liz gave me an enticing hug, then told me me to wait for her while she used the restroom.  During the wait, I realized how cold it was, so I went to the far end of the Hallway to turn off the air conditioner.  On the way back, I found myself on the verge of collapse.  It had been a really long day.  I had been at the studio decorating since 10 am and had not sat down once.  With my gas tank on empty, I staggered to the nearest couch while I waited for Liz.  I had never been this drunk in my life and my head was spinning.  Closing my eyes for just a moment, I passed out. 

Consequently I was unable to witness the full extent of the damage caused by Bob's Midnight Massacre.  Instead I will pass on what a Survivor named Christina related to me days later.

"Somewhere around Midnight, the boys could not contain their desire any longer.  Too much booze, too many naked dancing girls.  The boys were so oversexed, they went behaved like an out-of-control Frat Party.  None of the people who were still at the studio had come with a partner.  There was a free-for-all as the guys grabbed for any available woman.  It was random.  The lucky ones found a willing partner, but several guys came up empty due to a girl shortage.  I was practically tackled by a guy named John I had met at the party.  He was cute, so I didn't mind at all.

With everyone drunk out of their minds, at first there was hollering and loud, hysterical laughter.  Everything was so funny they laughed their drunken butts off.  The place sounded like a loony bin!  Someone found the light switch and it got real dark.  In an instant everyone was making out.  Don't tell anyone, but John and I proceeded to kiss with wild abandon.  A couple times I came up for air and looked around.  On every couch there was a couple writhing and giggling in ecstasy.  There were roving hands aplenty.  To my knowledge no one's clothes came off, at least no one near me.  But I did hear a lot of moaning.  It was dark in there, so I don't know how far some people went.  Let's just say it was closest thing to a Roman Orgy I've ever seen."

According to Christina, the Orgy did not last long.  Christina said everyone started to pass out just like I had.  Too drunk and too exhausted to go home, one person after another started to doze off.  Christina explained that John, the man she hooked up with, passed out in the middle of their make-out session. 

"Good grief, John conked out in the middle of a kiss!  It was the weirdest thing.  His lips were on mine, but then there he was with his head back and his mouth wide open.  For a moment I thought John was dead!  I shook him a little bit, but it did no good.  Then he started to snore.  That was too weird for me so I got up to leave.  Two couches down I was grabbed by a man without a partner.  Now I began kissing him instead.  I have never in my life been so drunk as to pull a stunt like that.  I didn't even know the guy." 

"What happened then?"

"I was in the middle of kissing this new guy when he got way too frisky for me.  Geez, I didn't even know the guy and his hands were up my dress.  I was so disgusted I got up.  He reached for me, but he was too drunk to catch me. 

When I looked around, I saw bodies strewn everywhere!!  The hallway looked like the Jim Jones massacre.  No one was awake but me.  There were a dozen people snoring their heads off.  Incidentally, you were one of them.  I saw you passed out on one of the couches."

"Yeah, not my proudest moment.  Did you see what happened to Liz?"

"Was that the gypsy girl?" 

When I nodded, Christina said, "She left with that guy who took all the pictures."

That was exactly what I had been afraid of.  Story of my life.

"So, Christina, why were you the only conscious one?"

"I guess the ones who could leave had already left.  The first guy I kissed was still asleep and thankfully the second guy could not stand up, so I staggered out to my car on my own.  I have no recollection of driving home, but that's what I did.  Gee whiz, it's been three days and I still can't walk straight.  It was mass murder.  Bob poisoned every single one of us.  Maybe I'm a ghost."

Hmm.  Maybe I was a ghost too.  I had not felt the same since the Halloween Party from Hell had ended with Bob's Midnight Massacre.  I thanked Christina for offering closure to the story.

"Oh, you're welcome, Rick.  By the way, what time did you wake up?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it was around 4 am."

"Who cleaned up all the mess?  The place was covered in trash when I left."

I winced at the memory.  "I had to clean it up myself.  I considered it just punishment for making such a fool of myself that night."

Christina smiled sympathetically.  "You poor boy."

I smiled wanly and thanked her.  What Christina did not know was there had been a second chapter to my night.  I was about to face the single most terrifying experience of my life.

OCTOBER 1981

IN THE MURK AND GLOOM
 

Thanks to Bob's Wicked Wizard Punch, I had passed out on a couch shortly after Midnight.  I awoke in the dead of night sometime close to 4 am.  I was so groggy, I did not know where I was at first.  However, the music gave it away.  The five-hour music tape was still blasting away in Room One where the dancing had taken place.  The loud music was giving me a headache and I needed to turn it off.  However, with my head spinning from alcohol abuse, I could not force myself to move. 

The best I could do was lift my head and look around.  Someone had turned the lights out, so I was in near-total darkness.  The red glow from a nearby Coke machine cast off just enough dim light to see ten feet to my right or left in this gloomy hallway.  Based on what little I could see in the gloom, I assumed I was alone.  Angry at myself for drinking too much, I lay there unmoving for several minutes.  Finally I summoned enough strength to sit up. 

I felt horrible!  I was stiff, sore, and my head throbbed.  What did Bob put in that punch?  Yesterday night I started drinking when Bob set up the Wicked Wizard Cauldron at 8 pm and did not stop for the next four hours.  Sometime close to Midnight, I paid a stiff price for my excess and passed out moments before Elizabeth returned to see what the night held for us.  I shook my head in disgust.  Why did I have to pass out?   So much for my night of passion with the enticing Gypsy.  Now as I lay here alone in the dark I wondered what happened to the beautiful Elizabeth.  The thought of losing her made me sick to my stomach.  But at least I would not have to lie to Victoria. 

I could not believe how dark it was.   The overhead lights in every room were turned off and there was not a single window in this building.  Nor were there any emergency exit lights.  Surrounded by so much darkness, being alone in this huge building gave me the creeps.  Was anyone else here? 

I thought I was the only person left, but I wasn't sure.  Since I could not see to the other end of the hallway, maybe someone was asleep on one of the couches down there.  I could not believe how dark this place was without lights.  I was really starting to lose my nerve.  I could believe how spooky it was to be in here by myself.  My fear proved useful.  It gave me a reason to get up and go turn on the hallway light switch. 

Turning on the hallway lights revealed the full extent of how much trouble I was in.  Mountains of trash!  Half-filled drink cups, paper plates, napkins, food on the floor, plastic silverware, remnants of costumes, you name it.  The hallway was full of trash, the Wizard drink room was full of trash, the Big Room was full of trash.  Oh my God, what am I going to do? 

Overwhelmed, I turned the lights back off so I wouldn't have to look at the mess.  Then I sat back down to conduct a pity party.  I was so wasted, it took me quite a while to get a grip on the task ahead of me.  I groaned.  How was I ever going to clean up all this mess by myself?  Some idiot had come as the Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz.  There was loose straw all over the floor.  Remind me to strangle the guy if I ever get the chance. 

My mind returned to Liz.  What a woman!  It made me sick to realize I had missed out on what could have been the girl of my dreams.  Oh well, maybe it wasn't too late.  However, with my luck, I doubted I would get a second chance.  Well aware I did not have her phone number, my despair deepened.  Meanwhile the dance music was blaring full blast.  I wished whoever turned out the lights had been kind enough to turn off the music too.  How did I sleep for four hours with music blasting in the room next to me?  Right now the loud Rock music was hard to take.  

As I lay there in the gloom, the Doors song Don't You Love Her Madly? began playing in the background.  With a groan, I remembered getting teased for playing several of my favorite Doors songs.  "Hey, Rick, what kind of dance music is that??"  Fortunately everyone was so drunk they danced to it anyway.  With a faint smile, I suppose these people were so drunk they would have danced to Inna Gadda da Vida. 

To my left was Room One, also known as the Big Room.  That's where the music was coming from.  To my right was the long hallway.  Actually there were two hallways.  One hallway led to an emergency exit to a back alley.  The other hallway led to the front door.  It was weird to know I was the last person to wake up.  The realization that I had been abandoned hit like a ton of bricks.  Good grief, I was in this huge dark studio all by myself! 

If there is one thing in the world I hate the most, it is being out of control.  Tonight I had been totally out of control.  I hated the thought of being so utterly vulnerable here in this creepy darkness.  I bet the front door wasn't even locked!  None of my guests had a key. 

Ordinarily I am not a scaredy cat, but for some reason being alone in this dark, giant building on Halloween Night really got to me.  I suppose the combination of my weakened state and memories of the recent horror film Halloween contributed to my paranoia. 

“Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand, creatures crawl in search of blood, to terrorize your neighborhood.

The foulest stench is in the air, the funk of forty thousand years, and grizzly ghouls from every tomb are closing in to seal your doom. 

And though you fight to stay alive, your body starts to shiver, for no mere mortal can resist the evil of  the Thriller."

That's when it hit me.  Oh geez, anybody could have walked in!  For that matter, someone could be sneaking up on me this very minute.  I immediately shuddered in fear.  Any psycho could have wandered in here and murdered me in my sleep!  I could barely stand the thought, so I bolted out of my seat and made a beeline for the front door to lock it. 

OCTOBER 1981

FEAR
 

After locking the front door, I returned to my favorite couch to resume my pity party.  I was stunned to realize the front door had been left unlocked for four hours on the same night when the Psychos and Perverts go on patrol looking for victims.  I had seen enough horror movies... Halloween, Exorcist, Michael Myers, Jason, Freddy Krueger, The Shining ... to know any night crawler could have wandered into the building while I was passed out.  There was a bus stop close to the studio.  Homeless people waited a mere hundred feet from the door at all hours of the night.  Sometimes street people would wander into the studio asking to use the restroom.  What if a street person had wandered in while I was passed out?  For that matter in the wee hours of the night a crook could walk along the strip center sidewalk systematically checking doors of each business to see if one was unlocked. 

As my imagination conjured up one horrible possibility after another, I was seized by a new fear.  I had just locked the front door without checking every nook and cranny ahead of time.  What if I accidentally locked someone in here?  What about the Drink Room?  What if there was a person passed out in there?  If so, were they a threat?  What about the Big Room?  Since there were no windows, the Big Room was pitch black at the moment.  If someone was still in there, I would never know because it was too dark to see from where I was sitting.  Weirder still, the music was playing.  The loud rock music coming from dark Room One aggravated me no end.  Thanks to the deafening music, I could not possibly hear if there were other sounds in the building.  I would never know if someone was sneaking up on me.  No eyes!  No ears!  No one to call for help.  Alone in the dark, I felt utterly helpless. 

Where was Bobby Wizard?  Feeling deserted, Bob Job was nowhere to be seen.  Fine friend he was!  That creep had promised to stay and help clean up.  Damn him anyway for getting me so drunk.  I shook my head in disgust.  Here I was alone in this spooky dark studio with that loud music bouncing off the walls.  This place was so eerie it felt exactly like the scene from a horror movie.  With Light my Fire blaring in the Big Room, I could just see Norman Bates from Psycho or Michael Myers from Halloween explode through the door with knife raised.

My mother always said I had too vivid an imagination for my own good.  Haunted by dangerous possibilities, I could see what she meant.  I had been careful to lock the front door the moment we began cleaning up at my three previous Halloween Parties.  Everyone who came to our parties was always friendly and appreciative, but I always knew there was an element of danger.  After all, everyone knew we had a considerable amount of cash laying around from the party.  What if an unscrupulous guest had stayed behind tonight to rob me?  I was easy pickings.

Shaking my head in disgust, this was the first time I had ever let my guard down.  It would only take one weirdo to hide in the shadows till everyone left.   Although the studio had never been robbed, at least one or two cars per year were broken into.  What if a criminal had been in the parking lot waiting for people to leave tonight?  I could not get it out of my mind that after the guests had left, the front door had been unlocked for four hours to allow any stalker, criminal, or psychopath to walk in while I slept.  

Talk about paranoid!  The thought of laying there unconscious and defenseless for all those hours upset me no end.  Spooked by the darkness and loud music playing in the pitch black room, one gruesome nightmare after another flashed across my mind's eye.  Unable to get my feverish mind to shut up, my anxiety was over the top. 

The way I saw it, this deserted situation was playing out just like a scene from a slasher movie.  I was afraid someone like Michael Myers and his giant knife was coming right now to attack me.  I could not see.  I could not hear.  I was weak.  I was intimidated by dire fantasies.  Bob had left me.  Liz had left me.  My friends had left me.  My head throbbed from excessive booze.  I ached and I had an upset stomach.  Most of all I was furious at myself for losing control.  How stupid could I get?  With fear running rampant in my mind, this was beyond a doubt the most scared I had ever felt in my life.  

I remained lost in my fear for some time when suddenly a new thought crossed my mind.  Wasn't I forgetting something?  If Freddy Krueger or some other Boogie Man didn't kill me first, Glen would definitely kill me if I didn't get this trash picked up.

Before the dance performance last night, Keith had reminded me that Glen had scheduled a 9 am rehearsal on Sunday morning.  Groaning at the memory, I was enveloped by a sense of hopelessness.  Here in the hallway alone I saw more trash than any party I had previously thrown.  I was desperate to go home and sleep off this hangover, but that was out of the question.  Glen would evict me if I neglected to clean the studio.  Or more likely this would be the last party he ever allowed me to stage.  I was already going to get chewed out for letting Glen's young ladies be subjected to cat-calls, but if the studio needed cleaning as well, I would be in so much trouble.  The vision of Glen's dance company being forced to clean up in order to use the dance floor was so depressing, a sense of urgency took over. 

Having half an hour dealing with fear, depression and pain, it was time to get it going.  I had four, maybe five hours to straighten this place up before the dancers arrived.  But where was I going to find the strength to clean the studio in the state I was in?  I was too exhausted to move from this couch.  My head throbbed, I was weak, I was nauseous, I felt sorry for myself.  All I wanted to do was lay back down and go to sleep.  But I did not dare risk that.  If I fell asleep again, I was doomed.  It was now or never.  I groaned at the colossal jam I had created by passing out at midnight.  Normally my friends would stay and help clean up.  Not this time.  The place was a total wreck and there was no one here but me.  Steeling myself to the inevitable, I slowly rose from the couch. 

The loud music was really getting on my nerves, so I decided Room One was where I would start the clean up.  Room One was a large open space, 60 feet long, 40 feet wide, 2,400 square feet.  There was only one door.  Since the solitary door was open, I could see someone had turned out the lights.  Facing a looming sea of blackness, I had no idea if someone was in there.  What if someone was waiting for me in there?

Telling myself I was frightened about nothing, I forced myself to walk in.  The light switch was right next to the doorway.  The pain from the bright light was so terrible I had to cover my eyes.  Peeking between my fingers, I was relieved to see the room empty of strangers and monsters.  However I paled at the vast amount of garbage.  There were drinks everywhere, food on the floor, empty cups, dirty plates as far as the eye could see.  Several places on the floor were sticky with spilled punch.  They would need mopping.  Debris on the floor including the straw would need sweeping.  It was a giant task.  Since I was a one-man band, my chances of finishing by 9 am were remote.  I wanted to kick myself.  The irony was overwhelming.  Just recently I had complimented myself for not making a single mistake all year long.  Famous last words.   

As I turned off the music, I thought about my music equipment for the first time.  The studio did not have an adequate sound system, but I did.  Where do you suppose all those C&W profits were going?  I groaned at the ordeal of loading two giant speakers, amplifier, tape deck, wires and other stereo equipment into my car to take home.  I did not dare leave the expensive equipment at Dance Arts.  It would not be safe from theft.  Ordinarily my students helped me carry these heavy items back to the car at the end of the party, but now I would have to carry the equipment by myself.  I buried my head in my hands.  Add another burden to the list. 

Woozy and boozy, the thought of cleaning this place and loading the equipment was more than I could bear.  I desperately wanted to lay back down, but my conscience would not stop nagging me.  Glen's dancers were scheduled for a rehearsal.  Recalling last year's Dance Wax fiasco, I was a dead man if I did not get this down.  There was simply no way I could put this Herculean task off any longer.  Unfortunately, my pep talk did not work.  With my weakened body unable to respond to the threat, I slunk back down on the couch.  In the state I was in, my predicament was just too much.  Unable to cope, it would be so easy to fall back asleep right now.  The door was locked, the music was off, and the hallway couch was oh so inviting.  I was nauseous, my head hurt, I was grouchy, but most of all I was drowning in an ocean of self-pity.  Where was I going to get the strength?  And so I laid down to get more comfortable which of course was the absolute worst thing I could do.  Just then the weirdest thing happened... I heard a strange moan.  Holy shit! 

Instantly I snapped to attention.

OCTOBER 1981

TRAPPED!!

Woooooooooh! 

OMG, what the hell was that!?! 

(In case you are curious, long 'O', it rhymed with 'whoa'.)

Considering I was already in a fearful state of mind, that weird sound sent me over the edge.  I was scared out of my wits!  I jumped off that couch faster than you can say 'Frankenstein'.  Amazing what fear and adrenaline can do.  One moment I was paralyzed, now I was ready to run for my life.  Only one problem... the moan had come from my right.  That meant my only place to hide was the Big Room on my left.

Was this my imagination?  No!  I had definitely heard something and I was panic-stricken!!  Unwilling to stand there and think it over, I ducked into nearby Room One, closed the door and turned out the lights.  Then I put my ear to the door and listened for further sounds. 

Hearing nothing, I did something very stupid and headed to the corner.  Unable to see a thing in this pitch black room, I traced the wall with my fingers.  Fear kept me moving.  What was that sound?  And where did it come from?  I listened carefully, but the sound was not repeated.  This prevented me from guessing its origin or location.  Due to the darkness, it took several minutes to reach the corner.  Ironically, this was the same spot where our Group Photo had been taken a lifetime ago.  Things had definitely gone downhill since then. 

Once I reached the corner, I realized what a stupid mistake it had been to move here.  I should have stayed and guarded the door.  Too late now.  Enveloped by total darkness, I was frantic with terror.  Baffled by this turn of events, I stood there trembling.  I expected to hear another sound, but there was nothing but silence.  Every hair on my body stood on edge.  Goosebumps all over my arms.  Shaking, sweating, pulse racing, I asked myself over and over if this had been my imagination.  Unfortunately I was certain I had heard something.  Whatever that moaning sound had been, it had instilled spine-tingling terror.

My instincts warned me this was the Real Thing.  This was not some rat scurrying in the night or some box shifting in the storage room.  This had been a verbal sound that felt 'human' in origin.  I was certain either a burglar was robbing the studio or someone stuck around to play a malevolent prank.  Knowing there was danger present, my heart went thump thump thump.  What should I do?  My mind raced through the possibilities.  Had a street person wandered in during the night?  Was it a burglar?  Had some party guest stuck around to play a sick joke on me?  Or was it Supernatural in origin, something like a ghost or demon?  How much danger am I in?  What should I do?  Earlier my imagination had conjured up scenes from a horror movie, but this was not a dream, this was Reality.  I was alone in the dark and someone had just moaned like a ghost in a haunted house.  

This was House on Haunted Hill.  Or was it Psycho?  Or was it the Bogeyman?  Furthermore, what was I doing here in this corner?  And why did I close the door?  I cursed myself for making really bad decisions.  The worst mistake had been to close the Hallway door.  Were I to do it over, after turning out the lights I would have left the door slightly ajar so I could peek down the dimly-lit Hallway.  That way I would remain invisible while having a vantage point to see if anyone approached the Big Room from the hall.  Instead I was stuck in this corner 20 feet from the door.  Dumb move.  I assumed my mistake had been caused by panic. 

Now I had a rueful chuckle at my own expense.  Typically in a horror movie, I always roll my eyes at the stupidity of the teenage victims.  Rather than hide and keep their mouth shut, they invariably just stand there in plain sight and call out, "Is anybody home?  Is anybody here?"  Due to my own ill-advised decisions, I had just learned first-hand that panic has a way of dulling the mind.  Maybe a hero is clever enough to think fast in the movies, but not me.  The important idea to leave the door ajar had never crossed my mind. 

To be frank, there was not a single hiding place in this empty big room.  No nooks, no crannies, nothing to hide behind, nothing to hide under.  The moment the lights came on, I would be visible from the doorway.  So why bother moving to the corner?  Duh!  I should have just stayed where I was.  At the moment I was standing in total darkness.  Since Room One had no windows, with the Hallway door was closed, it was pitch-black.  The darkness made me feel like I was trapped in an underground cave like Tom Sawyer with no candles left.  I was afraid of the dark, but I was even more afraid of whatever was on the other side of that door.  Consequently I refused to budge.  Instead I stood still and tried to think things through.

Something did not make sense.  A burglar was a likely possibility.  But what kind of criminal announces his presence with a moan?  Hmm.  Perhaps they moaned because they did not know I was here?  Considering I had not seen whoever made the sound, then probably they had not seen me either.  Perhaps the intruder had no idea anyone was in the building.  With my poor little heart thumping wildly, I fervently wanted to reopen that door just enough to peek into the hallway.  However, I did not dare make another error.  If someone was in the Hallway, opening the door would surely make a sound or they might notice the movement.  I decided the percentage move was to leave the door closed.  I was very frustrated at my lack of options.  Defenseless and blind, I was trapped in a weak position with no choice but to wait for developments in total darkness.  Trapped, my mind exploded with dangerous possibilities.

OCTOBER 1981
 

WHAT SHOULD I DO?
 

My ordeal had lasted ten minutes so far.  Any moment now, there was a real possibility I might be forced to fight for my life.  The door might swing open, the lights might come on and I might be facing a knife, a gun, maybe even a homeless psychotic ready to kill me with his bare hands.  What should I do?  I was not happy being stuck over here in this corner.  A mere flip of the light switch was all it would take to reveal my presence.  However, I was certain no one else was in this room, so I used this time to plan.  Maybe some local teenagers had stopped in the parking lot to do some drinking.  Maybe one of them had tested the doors in the strip center. 

Whoever it was, there had to be someone out there!  Nothing makes a sound like that but a human.  But I doubted anyone knew I was in the building.  Otherwise he would have come looking for me by now.  One question kept running through my mind, "Why would a burglar moan and warn me of his presence?"  Unfortunately I kept coming up empty with answers.  Although I was completely baffled, in an odd way that question offered a small source of comfort.  In the movies, bad guys don't announce their presence before an attack.  They sneak up instead.  Where was the intruder?  Why didn't he come for me?  I realized how pathetic my situation was.  Due to the stupidity of closing the door, I had no way to monitor the situation other than passively wait for another sound.

I was blind. 
I was trapped.
I had no place to hide.
I had no way to escape.
I had no weapon.
I did not know the nature of my assailant.
I was a sitting duck!!

Considering my only exit was that door to the hallway, it had been a huge mistake to come to this corner.  If there was indeed an attacker, he had control over the entrance to the room plus the light switch.  My confusion was driving me crazy.  It is frightening enough to deal with the unknown, but the unknown plus total darkness was maddening.  I clung to the hope that my nemesis did not know I was in here and would eventually leave the building.  However, a terrible thought crossed my mind.  I had locked the front door!  This meant the intruder COULD NOT LEAVE THE BUILDING!  Perhaps this also meant the intruder would wonder how the door had gotten locked.  I cursed the darkness!  I was going crazy because I could not see.  What if someone were creeping up on me at this very moment?  Beads of sweat rolled down my face.  This was the most scared I had ever felt. 

Suddenly I heard the sound for the second time.   Oooooh!!   

Since the moan was barely audible, I was certain it did not originate in Room One.  It had come from somewhere else in the building, maybe the Wizard Drink Room on the other side of the wall where I was standing.  I totally freaked out!!  What was that sound?  Who was making it?  What were they doing in there?  Was this a practical joke?  Why had there been a five minute gap between moans?  The latest sound really pushed me over the edge because it proved beyond doubt the first sound could not have been my imagination.  Trembling badly, my anxiety was killing me.  I laughed grimly at my predicament.  Fifteen minutes ago I had been barely alive as I laid upon the couch.  Now I was alert and wide awake.  Fear does that sort of thing to you.  Think, Rick, think harder!  My mind was racing. 

What was the most logical explanation?  Although I believe in ghosts, the Supernatural was the least of my fears.  I was way more afraid of humans than the Headless Horseman.  Was it a prank organized by someone who decided my drunken stupor was too good an opportunity to pass up?  That made more sense than burglars who announce their presence with a moan. 

Did someone from the party return to frighten me and have fun at my expense?  I discarded that idea because it made little sense. For starters, that sound had been made by someone already in the building.  I had locked the front door 15 minutes ago.  That meant whoever was behind this had either waited four hours for me to wake up or had returned while I slept.  Seriously, what person in their right mind would bother waiting two, three, maybe even four hours for me to wake up??  Why not just scare me out my sleep and get it over with?  That would scare me even worse.

Maybe it was a latecomer, someone who had a key.  Had a key?  Hmm.  Well, that was one possibility I had not thought of.  Someone with a key.  Was it Glen playing an unbelievable trick on me?  No way.  Had one of Glen's dancers returned to find a missing pocketbook?  I would have been okay with that scenario, but I doubted it.  No woman in her right mind would enter this building alone.  And even if she did, she would turn on every light switch as she came down the hall.  And why would she moan?  I suppose someone on Glen's staff with a key might come in the building in the wee hours for a romantic tryst.  That was also a possibility, but it did not explain the two moans.  Those moans were not sexual, but rather sounds someone might make who was trying to scare me.  Besides, no one entering the building in the wee hours was going to moan as they walked down the hall. 

My mind returned to the possibility it was a prank played by someone who had stuck around after the party.  I was skeptical.  Yes, people who had been at the party would know I was still in here, but we are talking about adults who have better things to do.  Why would anyone stick around four hours while I slept just to play a practical joke on me?  How stupid was that?  If they wanted to play a prank, why not do it at 12:30 am and get it over with?  Having eliminated this possibility, I returned to the Burglar Theory. 

Why would a predator moan twice and reveal its presence?   I still had no answer for that riddle.  Why warn me?  Why put me on guard?  Why not simply attack me before I could take defensive measures?   My inability to find an explanation bothered me no end.  Worst of all, being totally blind was really getting to me.  Blindness intensified my fear so much that I could barely think straight.  Unable to come up with the slightest reasonable explanation for the two moans, my mind turned to thoughts of escape.  I hated the fact that I had locked the front door.  This meant I could no longer make a run for it.  Even if I could get past the monster in the hallway and run all the way to the front door, I would waste precious time getting the key in the lock.  Surely in my haste I would fumble a little bit.  By the time my key opened the door, the predator would surely catch me from behind.  I would be trapped and that would be it for me.

 

There was an emergency exit at the farthest end of the hallway.  To get there would not be easy.  I would have to negotiate two doors.  One door separated the Hallway from a large storage area where the giant air-conditioner unit was housed.  The second door was the emergency door which opened from the storage area onto a back alley. 

This was an unlikely escape route.  First I would have to run all the way through the hallway in the vicinity where the two moans had come from.  Then I would have waste time opening the first door, go through the scary storage area in the back of the building completely in the dark, then open the second door to the outside.  Besides, if anyone had been hiding in the building, that AC unit storage area would be the perfect place to do it. 

Entering that storage area was such a bad idea I decided that trying to escape was out of the question.  This left me with only two choices... stand here in the dark for four hours until Glen arrived or prepare to fight back.  Ultimately I decided this corner was useless.  If I remained here, at any moment someone would enter the room, throw on the lights and see me quivering over here with my back to the wall.  In order to fight back, I would have a stronger position at the door.  That would at least give me the element of surprise to help subdue the intruder.  I doubted whoever was in the building knew I was here.  Otherwise they would have come for me by now. 

I could not stand here passively in the corner any longer.  No way I would stand still and get my head whacked off like Ichabod Crane!  I would rather take my chances with a fight.  That meant I needed to get back to that door twenty feet away.  Again I cursed my stupidity for closing the hallway door.  Closing the door had been a natural move, but it was a bad mistake.  I was already scared out of my wits by the moan, but that fear had been drastically escalated due to this maddening darkness.  I kept straining my eyes to see something, but it was no use. 

Under the circumstance I had every right to be afraid.  This was Halloween, the night when Evil walks the planet.  On the spookiest night of the year, something was very wrong and the fear of the unknown was driving me mad.  The darkness, my alcohol-induced daze, my worthless defensive position, and the lack of any rational explanation for those bizarre moans left me confused and scared.  Worst of all, I was trapped.  Escape was impossible.  Sooner or later I would be forced to confront the source of those moans. 

Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
So much to fear
Danger is near.
I am blind
Crazed out of my mind
Trapped in the Heart of Darkness

OCTOBER 1981
 

TIME TO MAKE A MOVE
 

My biggest fear was that someone would come in, flip on the lights, see me, and kill me.  I could not stay in this corner any longer or I would go insane.  Thank goodness I had turned off the music.  Deprived of the use of my vision, my ears worked overtime.  Whatever the threat was, I was certain Room One was vacant.  My finely-tuned ears would have heard the door open.  No one could be that quiet.  Therefore the danger was outside that door.   I had to take action.  My next step was to get control of the doorway and the light switch.  Therefore it was time to play blind man's bluff again.  Using the wall to guide me, I slowly retraced my earlier steps back in the direction of the door.  Feeling like a blindfolded kid at a birthday party, my heart was pounding the whole time. 

Running my fingers along the wall, I cautiously made my way.  At the halfway point, I froze.  Two red eyes suddenly appeared to stare at me.  Glowing in the dark, had the Devil come to get me?

Paralyzed with fear, I noticed those red eyes were not moving.  They were more like dots than actual eyes.  That is when it dawned on me that the 'red eyes' were coming from the general direction of where I had placed my music system.

Good grief, the red lights were coming from my amplifier.  I must have forgotten to turn it off.  I rolled my eyes at how afraid I had been.  I was so nervous I was finding threats everywhere!

As I slowly crept along the wall, I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't crazy.  Nothing made a bit of sense, but I had definitely not imagined those sounds.  Of that I was convinced.  But I still had no idea what the explanation was.  It upset me greatly that I could not think of a single plausible scenario.  Maybe the answer was benign, something like two lovers looking for a place to make out.  Or maybe the sounds were a warning, a sign of danger.  Just then, I heard it again. 

Woooooh!

I was so scared I jumped.  This was the third time.  Like the other two, the latest sound had come from somewhere down the Hallway, maybe the Drink Room.  Was the Intruder coming for me right now?   Damn it!  Since I had not reached the light switch yet, I was exposed and helpless.  How was I supposed to hide in the middle of the dance floor?   Or maybe he was standing in the Hallway waiting for me to open the door.  "Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of a drunken dance instructor.  Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Oh hell, what difference did it make where I was?  After this new moan, I fully expected someone to come bursting through that door any second.  Trembling, I stood still awaiting my fate.  But nothing happened.  No sounds, no movement in the hall.  I shook my head in confusion.  I was going out of my mind with my inability to guess what was going on.  Oh well, no point in standing still any longer.  Touching the wall, I resumed moving towards the doorway.  As I made my way to the light switch, a new fear crossed my mind.  Surely the Evil One was in the hallway right behind that door.  And that door was right beside the light switch.  That had to be where the trap was set.  I was sure of it.  Someone wanted me to turn on the light and then they would burst through the door to attack me.  Maybe so.  But what were my other choices?  Stand there in the dark and do nothing?  I don't think so.  Sooner or later I would have to face the intruder.  If I had to fight for my life, at the very least I needed to see who I was fighting.  So I kept moving towards the light switch.  

As I passed the doorway I discovered a very dim sliver of light at the bottom of the door.  Apparently the door did not go all the way down to the floor.  The source of that little sliver of light had to be emanating from the Coke machine in the hall.  I was pleased at my discovery.  That miniscule sliver of light let me know so far no one had turned on the hallway lights.  Maybe there was no one out there.

It was time for me to make my final move to the light switch which I estimated was three feet away.  I was afraid to take this last step.  With the hallway door shut and the room so dark, there was absolutely no way to guess what kind of danger I was in.  I hesitated moving to the light switch because I was afraid someone was standing there.  What if someone was inside this room?  It made sense for a bad guy to wait for me by the light switch.  Someone could be standing right in front of me and I would not see them.  I stopped and listened.  Nothing.  There was no way anyone was in this room, so stop being so paranoid!  Convinced the monster must be waiting right outside the door, maybe I could hear him breathing.  I held my own breath, put my ear to the door and listened.  All I could hear was the thump of my own heart beating furiously.  Finally I had to take a breath.  Now I tried listening again.  Holding my breath, still no sound.  The tension was more than I could bear so I slowly dropped to my knees to look under the crack at the bottom of the door.  Maybe I would detect the shadow of the monster's feet.  Nothing. 

I knew these were crazy irrational thoughts, but that is what blindness does.  It made me fearful and stupid!   Alone in the dark, my blindness made me afraid of everything I could not see.  The threat of attack made my brain predict every imaginable danger and think of ways to cope.  I felt unbelievably vulnerable.  If someone was standing outside the door, I would never know until it was too late.  Finally I decided this was ridiculous.  Why would an attacker be so passive?  Personally, if I were looking for someone, I would have come in this room long ago and turned on the light switch.  No one was inside the room, so get a grip.  It was time to move.
 
I screwed up my courage and made a desperate lunge for the light switch.  In the dark, I bumped my head on a shelf, then fumbled around the wall till I found the switch and turned it on.  As the lights flickered on, I assumed a defensive posture and prepared to run like a bat out of hell if someone came crashing through that door.  When nothing happened, I felt sheepish.  I had just spent five minutes crossing the floor inch by inch for nothing.  All those ridiculous thoughts for nothing.  No knife slashes.  No goblin to steal my soul.  No vampire to bite my neck.  No weirdo on cocaine.  No street person looking for a bathroom.  No street thug looking to rob me.  No ridiculous prankster.  No lovers writhing on a nearby couch.  Thanks to blindness and vivid imagination, I had just put myself through a fifteen-minute ordeal in this darkened room that was totally unnecessary.  It was all in my head.  Of course I was being silly, but those concerns had seemed real at the time.  Now with the lights on, I felt much relieved.  Just being able to see again made me feel a whole lot braver.  My excruciating trip to the light switch had been the right move.  Now it was time to solve the mystery.

I was thrilled to notice a short metal pipe lying on the floor by the trash cans stored under the light switch.  This pipe was a remnant from a metal ballet barre that Glen's jazz dangers used to stretch their legs.  The metal barre had been recently taken down and replaced with a more attractive wooden barre.  I gladly picked up the pipe for security.  Now I waited for any kind of sound, but heard nothing.  The time had come to open the door and have a look down the Main Hallway.  However first I decided to turn the lights back off.   I didn't want anyone to see the lights on in Room One when I opened the door.  That would alert them them to my presence.  Now that I had this pipe, making Room One black again would render me invisible when I opened the door, so I flipped the switch back off. 

With the darkened Room One behind me, I opened the door just a crack and peeked into the long, gloomy Hallway.  Nothing.  However, I could not see much other than the Coke machine.  There might be someone in the hall further away, so I stood there in the doorway and waited.   No sound, no movement.  I was relieved, but I was also mystified. 

OCTOBER 198

EXPLORING THE STUDIO
 

I estimated my ordeal had lasted 20 minutes.  I had three moans, a pounding heart and countless catastrophic fantasies to show for my time.  I was still scared, but so far my comeback had paid off.  I was starting to feel a bit more confident.  Now that I dominated the Hallway, the obvious reticence of the intruder suggested he either did not know I was here or he was just as afraid of me as I was of him.  The lead pipe was my new best friend.  Against a knife or a gun it wouldn't have been much use, but I was beginning to doubt the intruder was armed.  Whatever was going on, the intruder in the building was behaving timidly.  If anyone was after me, they should have come for me by now.  I was still pretty scared, but my curiosity was starting to get the better of me.  It was time for action. 

I decided to turn the lights in Room One on again and leave the door wide open.  I had a plan.  If someone was hiding behind a hallway door and lunged at me, I would retreat swiftly to Room One, slam the door shut and flip the lights back off.  If they opened the door, the darkness would conceal me long enough to give me the chance to bop them in the head with my lead pipe.  Armed with the pipe and in possession of a place to retreat to, I got braver.  It was time to start checking each room one by one.  Moving 30 feet forward down the hallway, I flipped on the Hallway light switch and braced myself.  Whoever was in the building was certain to see me now.  I half-expected some crazy maniac would come charging from somewhere, but nothing happened.  Filled with relief, I was not disappointed at all.  I did not want to fight if I didn't have to. 

Before I could begin the clean up, I had to solve the Mystery.  The Main Hallway was a scary place because someone could jump out at me from several blind spots.  From my vantage point in the middle of the Hallway, I counted five closed doors and two open doors.  I began to speculate that whoever was in the building was just as afraid of me as I was of them.  Maybe they were hiding from me.  Maybe someone was behind one of those doors so I decided to eliminate possibilities.  I would start with Room Two, Bob's Punch Room.  This was a real possibility.  Back when I was standing in the corner of Room One, the second moan felt like it had come from the room on the other side of the wall.  This could be it. 

The Punch Room door was closed.  If someone was in there, was my attacker waiting for me in the darkness of that room?   Quite possibly. 

Like an Indian, I snuck up as quietly as I could to retain the element of surprise.  The light switch was just inside the doorway which made it easy to reach from the hall.  I gripped my pipe for all it was worth and held it raised ready to strike.  I opened the door rapidly with my free hand, then reached inside to flick on the switch.  Nothing. 

Other than dismay at yet another mountain of trash, I went limp with relief.  There was no one in here. 

With the Hallway lights on, I could see all the way from the Room One door to the AC Storage area door.  Where was my nemesis?  Maybe there was a bogeyman, but if so, he was not aggressive.  That thought made me feel a lot more in control.  However, the mystery needed to be solved.  Three moans meant someone had to be in the building.  Now that I had announced my presence by turning on the lights, there should have been a reaction of some sort.  Therefore the continued silence added to the mystery.  If a person meant me harm, there should have been a confrontation by now.  Okay, but if the intruder meant me no harm, then why didn't they announce their presence when the lights came on?  But maybe they didn't see the lights go on. 

My eyes focused on the Hallway door to the air-conditioner Storage room.  It was unlocked.  That meant someone could be in the storage room at this very moment.  However, the door was so thick, they would not have seen the hallway lights come on.  There was a second door in there which I called the Emergency Exit.  It was equipped with a panic bar that allowed the door to be opened from the inside.  It led to the back alley behind the strip center where the dumpsters were located.  Maybe my nemesis had left through the Emergency Exit.  In fact, maybe that's why the moans had stopped.  If the Intruder had no idea who I was, maybe they feared me as much as I feared them.  That must be it!  They had probably left sometime in the ten minutes since I heard the third moan. 

Why had I not given the Emergency Exit more thought?  As opposed to using that door as an escape route, it could also be used maliciously. 

The Emergency Exit door could be opened from the inside at any time by pushing a release bar.  Since we kept the hallway door to the Storage Room closed, during the party someone could easily have gone in there, pushed the Exit Door open and no one would have ever noticed.  Maybe someone from the party had deliberately left the emergency door in the alley OPEN with the intention of returning later.  This possibility made a lot of sense.

There were all kinds of reasons to leave that door open.  Assuming the Front Door would be locked, they could gain access this way after the party was over.  Maybe they planned to return later to burglarize.  Or maybe a local teenager planned to play a prank like spraying shaving cream on the mirrors.  Or more likely he could use the studio for a pre-planned Halloween love tryst with a girlfriend on one of those couches.  Maybe those moans were sighs of pleasure, but when they discovered my presence, they changed their mind and left. 

Whatever the reason, more than likely the Moaner person was long gone.  The Emergency Exit theory made the most sense.  It explained why someone might have a reason to return in the wee hours.  Hmm.  Perhaps someone was still hiding in the AC Storage area.  Maybe they were still in there and waiting for me to leave.   I could open the door to the storage area and check, but that seemed risky.  I had a better idea.  I walked to the Hallway door to the Storage Area and locked it.  If there was someone in there, they could not open the Hallway Door from their side.  Once the Hallway door was locked, I was safe. 

While I was down at this end, I turned on the lights to Room Three.  No one.  The small storage closet had a locked combination padlock, so that was not a problem.  A quick peek in the men's room revealed nothing.  A quick glance down the hallway to the front door revealed nothing either.  Whatever the explanation, I was getting a lot braver.  I decided whoever had been here had probably left through the emergency door to the alley. 

This search had been nerve-wracking!  I admired any policeman who enters a building after a silent burglar alarm has been tripped.  Sure they have guns drawn, but a bad guy can shoot first from a hiding spot.  Tonight I had gained a real appreciation for the kind of guts it takes a cop to deliberately place himself into danger.  My nerves were completely shot.  Clearly I was not cut out for police work. 

However, I had begun to relax.  The crisis was over; time to begin cleaning up.  But then I stopped.  There still two doors left unchecked, one to Glen's office and one to the Ladies Restroom.  As I stood in the hallway, I stared at the two remaining closed doors.  Hmm.  Why hadn't I thought of Glen's office before?   That was when a new possibility occurred to me.  There was a couch in his office and I did not recall locking it.  Perhaps Glen's dancers had left that door unlocked after retrieving their clothes following the performance.  If so, one or two intoxicated party guests who wanted privacy to make out had found their way in there.  Maybe they fooled around for a while, then passed out just like me.  That made a lot of sense.  Why hadn't I thought of this before?

I checked the handle.  To my surprise, the door was locked.  Hmm.  But then I had a second thought.  If someone was in there, they could have locked the door from the inside.  I nodded.  That was the best explanation so far.  Impassioned lovers looking for privacy!  They had sex, passed out, then woke up again.  However, just when they were getting ready to leave, they realized someone was in the building.  With no window, they probably did not know it was me.  Embarrassed at the thought of being caught, they were waiting for some sign the coast was clear to leave.  Or maybe they just were just as scared as I was and misinterpreted my movement in the Main Hallway as danger.  Maybe they were hiding from me just like I had been hiding from them.  This had to be it.  I was certain someone was in Glen's office with the door locked. This made more sense than anything I had come up with all night long. 

I was very pleased to finally have a non-lethal explanation cross my mind.  However, as I pulled out my key to check, I hesitated.  There were negative consequences attached to investigating Glen's office further.  The thought of discovering two lovers on Glen's couch or even a solitary individual was not my idea of fun.  I stood there in the front of the door debating what to do.  How about knocking?  But what if a bad guy was hiding in there?  If so, I would prefer not to confront him.  If I knocked or said anything, that would indicate I had him trapped and a cornered animal is dangerous.  Why take a chance?  I was full of indecision.  So I just stood there staring at Glen's office door wondering what to do.  Maybe I should call the police.  The thought of having the police come over and find nothing shut down that idea.   And what would they say about the mountain of trash?  No, the police were probably not necessary.  I really didn't believe a burglar was in Glen's office.  At that point, I had a new idea.  Why not put my ear against the door and try to hear something?  

OCTOBER 1981
 

MYSTERY SOLVED
 

Just as I went to put my ear against Glen's door, I heard another moan.

Wooooooh!!!   TERRIFIED, I jumped out of my skin!!!!!  

Well aware that sound had come from inside Glen's office, someone had just scared the bejeezus out of me!    I was so frightened I jumped up on one of the nearby couches with my lead pipe raised high.  How crazy was this?  But then I noticed the door didn't open.  As my wits returned, I couldn't take this anymore.  I HAD TO KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON!  So I raised my lead pipe, inserted the key in the door and ripped it open.  Nothing!!!!   I was incredulous.  There was no one in here.  I looked under the desk.  No one.  Behind the couch.  No one.  The sound had not come from Glen's office, so I returned the Hallway.  With my heart still thumping wildly, I turned my gaze to the Ladies Restroom adjacent to Glen's office.  That was the last possibility.  Due to the proximity, it was conceivable the fourth moan had come from there and I had mistook it for Glen's office.  The door was less than five feet from where I was standing.  I walked around the Coke machine to stand in front of the door to the Ladies Room.  I was so scared I practiced swinging my metal pipe a couple times just to get the stroke down.  Keep in mind I still had no idea what was going on and there was no one to help me.  Maybe it was all just a prank, but maybe it wasn't.  I could be in grave danger.  Should I go unlock the front door just in case I needed to run?  I frowned.  No.  I had lost all patience.  I wanted to get this over with, so on impulse I jerked the door open.  

I was stunned by what I saw. 

In the gloom, a woman was motionless on the floor.  She looked like she was dead!

Then I recalled the moans.  Hmm.  She couldn't be dead.  Flipping on the lights, I stared at an unconscious woman sprawled face down on the restroom floor.  She was a large black woman dressed in a red belly dance outfit.  Despite the lights, the woman did not move.  She was out cold.  I quickly pinched my nose at the incredible stench.  Her face, her veil, her costume plus the entire restroom was covered in vomit.

I gasped in disbelief.  This was the most ghastly sight I had ever seen in my life!  

The woman was so motionless I worried again that was dead.  Her arms and legs were set at such strange angles that I wondered what I was seeing.  No, she couldn't be dead.  After all, she had just spent the past 30 minutes scaring me out of my wits with her weird moaning noises.  Just then I figured it out.  This poor woman had suffered the same fate as me, only much worse.  She had probably been moaning all night long, but her sounds were disguised by the loud music from Room One. 

Oh my gosh, the stench was overpowering!  She had thrown up everywhere.  Her costume was covered in vomit.  She must have accidentally rolled in the damn stuff.  It wasn't just on her costume.  One of the toilets, the sink and much of the floor was covered with vomit.  And her face was covered with thick layers of dried vomit.   

Despite my horror, a huge relief passed over me.  At last the Mystery was over.  Everything made sense now.  This poor woman was a fellow victim of Wicked Wizard Punch.  I wondered why this obvious possibility had never crossed my mind.  However, right now the woman's condition was so serious I did not have time to give it any thought.  The woman really did look dead.  I am not exaggerating.  I had never seen anything like it.  She was completely motionless and her ashen appearance was gruesome.  This woman was in big trouble!  Despite my extreme disgust, my heart went out to her. 

Good lord, there was vomit everywhere.  This woman had puked her guts out, then passed out and spent the night rolling around in it.  I could not imagine the pain she had been in.  The woman must have suffered gut-wrenching agony before she collapsed on the cold tile floor.  Her intermittent moans suggested she was still in misery even as she slept.  When I say 'passed out', she was completely and totally unconscious.  As I gently moved her body around to study the extent of her plight, the woman never reacted.

This poor wretched woman!  I did not know who she was, but I did remember seeing her at the party.  The stench brought me out of my musings.  Phew!  I reflexively grabbed my nose again and stepped back into the hallway to catch my breath.  From the doorway I moved my eyes around the restroom.  What a horrible, revolting mess!  Obviously she had tried to make it to the toilet, but did not totally succeed.  Instead she had puked both in and  around the toilet, then had more left over to puke in the sink and the middle of the floor.  

After she collapsed, she got puke all over her belly dance dress from head to toe.   Vomit was caked on her mouth and face too.  I shuddered at the thought of this woman soaked in her own vomit all night long.  That was horrible to see, much less smell.  How could she even breathe?  Can people suffocate from vomit?

And the smell!!  Oh my goodness, yes, the smell.  Who could forget that?  Nothing had ever reeked like this before or since. The stench was so overwhelming I had to use one hand to squeeze my nose just to remain in the restroom.

What exactly was I going to do?  Realizing how much this helpless woman needed me, I decided on a course of action.  My first thought was to wonder if the woman needed medical attention.  So I pulled the vomit-soaked veils from her face.  She seemed to be alive, sort of.  At least she was breathing.

I got some paper towels, wet them in the sink, and gently began to wipe her face clean.  As I ran the wet paper towel across her face, she began to moan.  I jumped to the ceiling again.  This woman was way too creepy!  For some reason, suddenly I became aware of my own pain.  A single thought raced through my mind over and over... "I am too sick to be doing this!  Someone needs to help me!"

I shook my head at the jam I was in.  No one was going to help me.  I was just going to have to suck it up and do this job all by myself.  What on earth was I going to do with this poor woman?   And where was I going to get the strength to do it?  But I had no choice.  I had to keep going.  I steeled myself to the task and resumed cleaning her face.  The whole time I was disgusted beyond belief.  I wondered, "How do nurses stand doing stuff like this?"  This was horrible.  This task was so putrid I wanted to throw up myself.

Reluctantly I returned to the job of cleaning her face.  My fear of letting her suffocate to death kept me from quitting.  Accompanied by my new-found respect for nurses, I continued to clean the smelly vomit off her face.  Now came the moment I had been dreading.  I carefully examined her gaping mouth to make sure she was in no danger of suffocation.  Thankfully, her mouth seemed clear.  Either she had spit it up or swallowed the rest sometime in the night.  Lucky woman.  It probably saved her life.  However, her presence was ominous.  Glen was certain to fire me.  Forced to dedicate what little time I had left to this woman, there was no way I could ever get the studio clean.  And there was no guarantee this woman was going to wake up by then.  I could just see me trying to explain what had gone wrong last night as my fire-breathing boss stared at this woman lying on the floor.  Besides, what difference did it make?  Even if I somehow got her out of here, the stench would remain.  Time to think about my next career.  I decided if I ever survived the night, I wasn't going to become a nurse.  Not a policeman, not a nurse.  Two totally thankless jobs.  I cannot explain how miserable I felt. 

OCTOBER 1981
 

WHAT TO DO ABOUT HER CLOTHES?
 

Washing my hands for the fifth or sixth time, my nausea got too much for me to take.  I had to sit down for a moment.  I stuck something under the door so I could keep an eye on the woman, then went to sit on the nearby couch in the hallway.  At this point I took stock of my situation.  Now that the mystery was solved, the adrenaline was gone and my overwhelming exhaustion kicked back in.  I doubted I had the strength to continue.  How does a sick person tend to a sick person?  I was just one notch better off than she was.  How was I ever going to take care of her and still clean the studio?  

Just then I heard the woman begin to moan again on the cold restroom floor.  She sounded awful.  I shook off my own misery and went back inside to help her.  I had never seen this woman before tonight.  Who was she?  Where did she come from?  I took another look at that belly dance outfit.  Her clothes reeked beyond belief.  They had to go.  I fervently wished there was another woman around to get her out of those horrible garments and put her in an oversized tee-shirt or something.  No such luck. 

I thought of Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, a classic Robert Mitchum movie.  Mitchum had played an American soldier hiding from Japanese occupiers on a small Pacific island during World World II.  By accident during a heavy rain storm, he came across an unconscious Nun lying in the mud.  She was from the convent located on the island.  Realizing she was in danger of drowning, the soldier dragged her into his cave.  He decided he had to get her out of her soaked garments for her own safety.  Only one problem... this woman would know what he had done.  Would she forgive him?  Mitchum decided her safety was more important, so he took the chance.

Undressing the victim might have been okay in the movie, but this was different.  There were some old clothes in the lost and found plus remnants of various old costumes that would make this woman feel much more comfortable.  However I had no business changing the clothes of a woman I did not know even for her own good.  Since this was not a life or death situation, I had no choice but to let her remain in that horrible vomit-saturated belly dance costume.  Instead I wiped down her clothes as best I could and placed some clean clothing choices nearby in case she woke up.

Then I went back to my couch to rest for a moment.  Barely able to breathe from the smell, sick from my abuse of Bob's punch, exhausted from the ordeal of gut-wrenching fear, I experienced a level of misery I had never felt before.  Disgusted beyond belief at my task, waves of nausea swept over me.  Several times I had to suppress my own puke reflex.   I felt so much revulsion, it was everything I could do not to throw up.  Puking on my own patient... gosh, now wouldn't that take the cake?  Then it occurred to me she wouldn't know the difference.  Oh, gee, aren't I funny?  I smiled grimly to myself.  Nothing like sick humor at 5 am in the morning.

Finally I got moving again.  I had to attend to her.  What other choice did I have?  I permanently removed her veil.  That much I could do.  Then I cleaned her face a second time as best I could.  I saw no reason to wipe the vomit off her clothes.  Some of it had been on her so long it had dried and caked.  Then I found I could just peel it off barehanded.  It wasn't like I had gloves.  Yuck!  I was gagging with nausea the whole time.  This was beyond awful!  The woman never moved the entire time I cleaned her.  Not once.  I rolled her from one side to the other a couple times without even a facial twitch.  She was dead to the world.  There was one good sign though.  The moaning stopped once her face was clean.  I guess at some level she knew someone was taking care of her.  After cleaning her up as best I could, I decided she was going to be okay.  The woman seemed more relaxed and she was breathing normally. 

Now I had to get her out of that stinking restroom.  I covered the nearby couch with an old blanket I found.  I tried to pick the woman up, but this was not going to happen.  She was a big woman plus she was completely limp.  I tried lifting again, but she was much too heavy.  Finally I gave up.  She was just too heavy for me.  There was no way I was ever going to get her on that couch, so I did the next best thing.  I grabbed her under the armpits and dragged her to a clean spot on the hallway floor and carefully moved her onto the blanket.   Then I stuck a pillow under her head and let her lay there.  It wasn't very dignified, but it was an improvement. 

The woman never even stirred.  Leaving my patient sound asleep on the hallway floor, I had made her as comfortable as I could.  Now I got to work on cleaning the restroom.  I cleaned the toilet, cleaned the sink and mopped the floor.  While I worked, the irony of exchanging Liz the Gypsy for a vomit-covered belly dancer was not lost on me.  The drop-off in my fortunes did not escape me.  On the other hand, I shuddered to think what would have happened had I not been here to find her.  It took half an hour, but I finished with the restroom.  The area was clean enough, but it still stunk horribly.  However, there was no freshener available.  Tough.  I told myself I had done the best I could.  I wondered how badly I was going to get chewed out by Glen for the smell.  I also worried the smell had moved over into his office, but then I scoffed.  I had bigger things to worry about.  I had not begun to clean up the studio and time was running out.  When was this ordeal ever going to end?  More important, could I finish in time before the rehearsal?  I doubted it seriously.

OCTOBER 1981
 

THE CLEAN-UP BEGINS
 

I started in Room One.  For motivation, I turned the music back on.  I laughed when Don't You Love Her Madly? came on again.  This had been quite a night.  Oddly enough, I was so proud of myself for taking care of the woman, I found a second gear.  I picked up the trash.  I emptied the drinks.  I swept the floor.  I mopped up the sticky spots.  I carried twenty bags of trash by hand to the dumpster in the alley way.  Carrying two bags at a time, the ten trips nearly killed me.  During this time I used a lot of profanity.  Whistle while you work?  Drop dead.  I finished Room One at 7:30 and I still had the Drink Room and the Hallway to do.  I would never make it. 

The woman slept the entire time.  She was tall and wide.  With the nearby couch restricting the remaining space, I could not go around her.  Instead I had to carefully step over her every time I took trash to the dumpster.  She had started to snore, so I hoped this was a good sign.  It seemed like she was sleeping soundly.  There she was right in the middle of the hallway as the perfect reminder for my Halloween Party gone mad.  I used her as inspiration to remind me never to pull a stunt like this again in my life.  As I worked, I often had to put my foot on either side of her face just to get past her.  I stepped her over her 20 times, 10 while carrying the giant trash bags, 10 on the way back.  Not once did she move.  This was one very passed-out woman.  Oddly enough, I was starting to appreciate her company.  At least I wasn't completely alone.  Not only that, I realized this woman had done me a bizarre favor.  By scaring the heebie jeebies out of me, her presence had shocked me out of my own drunken stupor.  I guess this is what they mean by a silver lining. 

On my last trip returning from dragging the Room One trash to the dumpster, I was surprised to discover the woman was finally stirring. Good timing.  I could not have gotten the large audio equipment past her while she lay on the floor.  Besides, I was sure Glen would not be pleased to find an unconscious woman lying in the middle of his hallway.  Seeing her eyes flutter, I sat down on the couch nearest to her and rested for a minute or so.  Finally her eyes opened.  At first, she just stared up at the ceiling in wonderment.  Then she raised her head and looked around in bewilderment.  Finally she noticed me and quickly sat up quickly in fear.  I'm sure she just loved being down on the floor.  The woman looked at me warily, but said nothing.  I think she recognized me in my blue and white sailor outfit.  

I said, "Good morning.  You had a rough night.  How do you feel?"

She did not respond, but rather blinked and started looking around at all the trash.  Obviously she was having a hard time figuring out what had happened to her.  Hmm.  Join the club.  I painfully recalled my own rude awakening.  Now her nose twitched.  Boy, did it ever!  Her nose practically twisted into a pretzel when she smelled the stench.  Her eyes bulged as she inspected her clothes.  That was her wake-up call.  As she began to figure things out, she shook her head in dismay.  The woman had to be disgusted out of her wits, but I did not know how to spare her this embarrassment.  Despite my own problems, I felt so sorry for her. 

"How do you feel?" I asked again. 

This time she spoke.  "Like death warmed over," she replied.  No surprise there. "Answer me a question.  What was in that punch?"

I suppressed a smile and told her my theory of what had gone wrong.  She nodded in agreement.  After learning her name was Julia, I shared my own story.  "You might be surprised to know I passed out too.  I found you not too long after I woke up myself.  I want you to know I did the best I could to clean you up.  I'm sorry I left you on the floor like this, but I was too weak to lift you."

Julia said nothing.  Instead she just nodded.  Now she tried to get to her feet.  Anticipating her stumble, I rose just in time to steady her.  She nodded her thanks.  After helping her to the couch, I went into the restroom and returned with the clean clothes.

She smiled appreciatively.  "Are those for me?"

"Yes, Julia.  They aren't what you would call designer clothes, but you will feel better.  I suggest you use the boy's room to change." 

Julia nodded and disappeared.  Five minutes later she returned wearing a baggy pullover and Sinbad pants from an abandoned costume.  "Thank you, Rick.  I feel much better already."  Then she looked up and down the Hallway.  "That's quite a mess you have here.  Would you like some help?"

I smiled broadly for the first time all morning.  "Yes, ma'am, I would love some help!"

First we cleaned the Hallway, then moved into the Drink Room.  Julia did not move swiftly, but she was a big help.  We talked as we worked.  Julia said she was a first-year graduate student at Texas Southern University.  She had taken East Coast Swing dance lessons here at the studio this month and had seen my Halloween Party promo poster on the wall.  This is how she learned about the party.  She added she had come to the party alone on a city bus.  I groaned.  A bus?  That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

There was no way I was going to let this woman take a bus ride home.  Not after what she had been through.  Besides, thanks to Julia, we were done at 8:30.  I could not have finished on time without her, so that gave me a face-saving reason to offer Julia a ride.  She gratefully accepted.  What else could I do?  Leave her at the bus stop in that condition and those clothes?  I don't think so.  When I explained I needed to load some of my audio equipment into the car before we left, Julia nodded and helped me carry stuff to the car.  With Julia sitting in the front, I took the smaller equipment with me, but left the heavy speakers at the studio.  I would come back for them later.  With that, we were done.  I locked the front door and off we went.  It was 8:45 am, a close call to be sure. 

The smell in the car was pretty bad.  Her clothes were clean, but her hair was filthy and she needed a shower in the worst way.  Julia felt awkward, but hey, I was embarrassed too.  I still cringed at all the party guests who must have snickered as they walked past me snoring on the couch.  I also wondered how much Julia trusted me.  I had used as much discretion as possible while cleaning her up, but she had no way to know that.  Did this woman have a clue that I had been down on the floor cleaning her face and peeling vomit off her costume?  How could she not guess?  Talk about an invasion of privacy!  Fortunately, Julia did not ask.  I think she was grateful to be alive, so why sweat the small stuff.  However, she did look uncomfortable, so I decided to say something.

"Look, Julia, don't worry about it.  Let's just roll down the windows.  You passed out and so did I.  You feel like hell and so do I.  You look like hell and so do I.  I crave a bath, so do you.  I crave a bed, so do you.  The important thing is we made it through the night together.  Plus I want to thank you.  I would not have finished on time without your help."

Julia said nothing, but her wan smile hinted that she felt better.  Her apartment was near the TSU campus.  We rode in complete silence since we were both too exhausted for small talk.  It was a very long trip because I was too tired to push the accelerator.  The trip seemed even longer because the smell was horrible even with the windows down.  Due to an early cold spell, we both shivered in misery.  Two complete strangers trying to make the best of an incredibly awkward situation.  Julia had done a lot of drinking, probably even more than me.  During the trip, I tried to imagine the depths of loneliness that had contributed to this woman's unfortunate incident.  I decided it was none of my business.  For one thing, I was barely in better shape than she was, so who was I to judge?  Besides, she had no idea how dangerous Bob's punch had become.  For that matter, I had been tricked as well.

When we reached TSU, Julia could not find her apartment.  I could see the problem.  All the apartments in this neighborhood looked the same.  Embarrassed, Julia said, "I've only been in Houston for two months.  The only way I know to get home is from riding the bus."

I groaned to myself.  I was too tired to have any patience left, but managed to summon a final ounce of civility.  I am glad I did.  I am sure if I barked at her, Julia would have begun to cry.  She was right on the edge of tears as it was.  I asked her if she knew what street her bus stop was on.  Julia said 'Wheeler Street'.  I knew where Wheeler Street was, so I drove through her neighborhood to find Wheeler Street and that is how we located her bus stop.  Once Julia spotted familiar territory, that did the trick.  From there Julia guided me to her apartment.  I offered to help her walk in, but Julia said she was strong enough to make it to make it by herself.  Realizing her pride was involved, I did not argue, but I wish I had.  The woman was on her last legs.  It took every last ounce of strength, but Julia made it up the sidewalk.  Reeking from head to toe, woozy, wobbly, sick and dazed, Julia finally made it to her door.  That poor woman.  Once Julia got her door open, then turned around and waved goodbye with as much dignity as she could muster.  I waved back and departed.  Hopefully with a shower and rest she would recover from this ordeal sometime before the next century.

As for me, I was beyond beat.  I drove home way below the speed limit even though the roads were deserted on Sunday morning.  I was too tired to trust myself to drive fast.  If I fell asleep while driving, I didn't want to hit anything hard.  It was 9:45 am when I got home.  Considering it had been 9:45 am yesterday when I left home to complete the party decorations, this had been the longest 24 hours of my life.  Too tired to stand up to take a shower, I took a bath instead.  As I anticipated, the warm water was delicious and I promptly fell asleep right there in the tub.  I had survived the Halloween Party from Hell, but just barely.

OCTOBER 1981
 

PLAYING STUPID
 

Following my long night at the Halloween Party, I deliberately set my alarm for just a couple hours of sleep on Sunday morning.  Despite my exhaustion, I had damage control to attend to.  I made a beeline back to the studio hoping to catch the end of Glen's rehearsal.  Using the large speakers I had left behind as my so-called reason to return on my day off, Glen did not suspect the real reason I had shown up.  As expected, Glen wasted no time confronting me.  He had an entire list of issues he was upset about.  To begin with, Glen was furious that his young ladies had been frightened by the mob of lustful men. 

"I am so angry at you!  What kind of party did you throw?  Sounds like Animal House to me!  I cannot believe your men made cat-calls.  Those poor girls were afraid some of those men were about to grab them and haul them off to some back room."

I wanted to suggest Glen put more clothes on his dancers, but thought better of it.  Instead I kept my mouth shut and absorbed the tongue-lashing.  In addition, Glen wanted to know when the decorations were coming down.  However he saved the bulk of his wrath for the condition of the Ladies Room.  I had cleaned it as best I could, but without adequate supplies, I anticipated there was more work to be done (which of course was why I had made this special trip). 

I knew I was going to face the music about the Ladies Room, so I had given my defense considerable thought ahead of time.  I could have brought supplies with me, but to do so would have indicated foreknowledge of the problem.  That would have been a serious mistake.  I had three advantages.  First, Glen had no idea about the Midnight Bacchanalia or Julia's problem.  For all he knew, everyone had gone home shortly after Midnight.  My second advantage was the thorough job of cleaning the studio thanks in large part to Julia's help.  I intended to point out that I had made sure 'The Gang', meaning a dozen students or so, did a good cleaning job the studio.  That would prove the Ladies Restroom problem was an aberration of some sort I had not been previously aware of [a serious fib].  Finally, and probably most fortunate of all, it was common knowledge that Boys do not typically visit the Ladies Restroom.  I knew Glen would ask me to explain what had happened in the restroom, so I intended to swear with a straight face that I had not gone in there to check. 

But first I had to pretend like I knew nothing about it.  Putting on the most innocent face I could summon, I said, "I don't know what you are talking about, but I am sorry if there is a problem.  Can you show me what is the matter?"

Glen lost his temper and marched me straight to the Ladies Room to ask why the place reeked.  Oh gosh, the place reeked worse than a cesspool.  It took all my self-discipline not to squeeze my nose.  Playing stupid, first I apologized profusely.  I swore up and down that I had no idea what had happened, but agreed this was completely unacceptable.  I speculated that just before we all left, some woman must have thrown up and done an inadequate job of cleaning afterwards.  More than likely she was too embarrassed to tell me.  Now for my master stroke.  I offered to make amends immediately.  I would go to the store, buy freshener and disinfectant, then come back and clean until the restroom was acceptable to Glen.  That was beyond a doubt the smartest suggestion I ever made in my life.  Glen eyed me suspiciously for the longest time, but in the end he calmed down and accepted my offer.  On my return from the grocery store, I spent another hour doing my best to make the Ladies Room presentable.  I didn't care.  I would do anything to stay in Glen's good graces.  As expected, Glen swore this would be the last party I would ever throw at his studio.  Fortunately I had the sense to wait till the smell went away to ask his forgiveness.  Glen would relent eventually, but it required an excessive amount of groveling to change his mind.  

I was not out of the woods by a long shot.  The women who had been at that party harassed me endlessly all the way to Christmas about the semi-naked dancing girls.  Women have long memories.  Any time the ladies were grouchy about something, they typically brought up the subject of Jungle Fever to put me in my place.  Considering I have never handled criticism very well, I seethed every time the subject came up.  However there was not much I could say in my defense, so I kept my mouth shut and took my punishment.  I had tried as hard as I could to make this the best Halloween party ever, but felt like all my work had backfired due to my inexperience.  Nor did it help that circumstances beyond my control, i.e. the Wizard Punch, had made things much worse.  I felt very discouraged. 

OCTOBER 1981
 

FAREWELL, FAIR ELIZABETH
 

As for Liz, that was another sad story.  It was common knowledge that Liz was in play all night long.  She was seen in the arms of at least a dozen suitors.  I suppose I was at the top of her list by night's end, but then I blew it.  After Victoria learned about my undisguised flirtation with the beautiful gypsy from her spies, she gave me the third degree.

"I hear you were hot and heavy with some hussy named Liz at the party."

Oh great, just what I need, another chewing out.  I suppose I had been reckless in the amount of interest I showed.

"I don't what you are so upset about.  Yes, I had fun dancing with Elizabeth, but I never lost track of the promise I made to you.  I stuck to dancing and made sure things went no further.  I went home alone, you have my word."

Which of course was both the truth and a huge lie at the same time.  I might as well use my bad luck at the end of the evening as a way to spin things in my favor with Victoria.

Victoria was skeptical.  "That is not what I heard.  I heard you two were joined at the hip all night long.  What's the story?"

Just as I had thought long and hard what to tell Glen about the Ladies Restroom in advance, I had prepared how I intended to respond to Victoria's expected interrogation.

"Okay, Victoria, you have my apology for excessive flirtation, but no lines were crossed.  I admit I had too much to drink and maybe I let loose for a while there, but nothing happened.  Afterwards I went home alone like a good boy.  It was a party, people danced and had fun, so what's wrong if I did the same thing as everyone else?  You have nothing to worry about."

Victoria was not convinced, so she turned on her Radar Intuition for a truth scan.  After probing my face for signs of duplicity, Victoria detected no signs of happiness whatsoever.  Which of course was correct.  I was so miserable at losing Liz it was easy to keep a straight face.  Victoria shrugged and decided I was telling the truth.  As my punishment Victoria officially declared Liz off limits.  According to Victoria, I still belonged to her until she decided what to do about Michael.  Victoria pointed out I had made a promise and she expected me to honor that pledge.  When I begrudgingly agreed to Victoria's terms, she assumed I would obey whether I liked it or not. 

What Victoria did not know is that I had crossed my fingers behind my back.  In truth, I would trade Victoria for Liz any day of the week.  I was more than ready to revisit this issue if I could get Liz to go out with me.  Considering I did not have her phone number, easier said than done.  Until I could figure out some way to contact her, Limbo Captivity was back in effect, probably till the end of time at the rate Victoria was going. 

After chewing me out over Liz, Victoria decided to rub it in.  She had a good time playing a game known as 'I told you so'.

"Seriously, Rick, how could you have been so stupid to invite Glen's dancers?  I warned you, but you wouldn't listen.  Did you know those girls would be wearing those skimpy outfits?"

"No, Victoria, I did not know and that is the truth.  Those outfits were a complete surprise."

"Well, I hoped you learned your lesson.  And what about Bob's punch?  I heard that his alcohol turned the party into a drunken catastrophe.  I warned you, didn't I?  I told you not to get Bob involved in this, but no, you never listen.  Obviously you still haven't learned how to run the studio without me.  I guess I better stick around.  You would be lost without me."

Ouch!  That really stung.  The sad thing is that she meant it.  How would I ever get free of her?

Speaking of Liz, I had asked Christina, one of the Survivors, what happened to Liz after I passed out.  She said the stunning gypsy had left the party with some unidentified guy.  I had a deep scowl as her description sounded like Jim Fogo.  Considering an unattached beauty like Liz was a tempting find at the Midnight Hour, this was an easy rumor to believe.  Unfortunately I did not have her phone number nor was Liz currently taking classes, so for the time being I would have to wait to beg for a second chance.  

As it turned out, Jann Fonteno solved the mystery of the missing Elizabeth.  As news of the screwball Halloween Party circulated, it did not take long for Jann to track me down.

"Hey, Rick, I heard you had a wild and crazy Halloween Party."

"I'm sure that is not all you heard."

"You're right!  A little birdie told me you pissed off a lot of women by bringing naked dancing girls to excite all the men.  Naughty, naughty!"

When I failed to reply, Jann grinned broadly, then added, "Surely that isn't true.  I thought you were too smart to be that stupid.  I've decided not to believe it."

"Oh, shut up.  You know damn well it's true.  By the way, where were you?  Unless you had a very good costume, I didn't see you there."

"I wanted to come, but my cousin begged me to drive up to Austin to help her with her own Halloween Party."

"Too bad you didn't make it.  I could have used you to help keep me out of trouble."

Jann gave me one of those wry smiles of hers.  "So I gather."

I wasn't sure what Jann meant by that remark, so I remained silent.

"So, Richard, out of curiosity, can you explain to me why the Ladies Room stinks to high heaven?  If anyone would know the answer, it would be you."

I suppressed a guilty look as best I could.  There was no way I was going to tell the truth in a million years, not even to a trusted friend.  Well aware I would never hear the end of it, Julia's sad story would have to remain a secret.

"Um, I can't really say, Jann.  You might be surprised, but I don't spend a lot of time in the women's restroom.  I guess something happened, but no one told me anything [a bald-faced lie]  I suppose Bob's punch got someone sick."

I don't think Jann believed me.  She responded with a knowing smile.

"So who was the pretty girl you were with, the one with the gypsy outfit?"

"Her name is Liz.  How do you know about her?"

"Jim Fogo told me about her.  Jim's my gossip buddy.  I think Fogo has a big crush on her.  Once he found out how vain she is, Fogo spent the night taking one picture after another.  Jim claims he took 20 pictures of her.  He won't say for sure, but I get the feeling he got lucky that night."

Seeing my flash of jealousy, Jann quickly added, "Uh, but that's just a guess."

Ah, Fogo.  That figures.  Well, there you go, mystery solved.  No doubt Fogo was the recipient of some extraordinary good luck thanks to my demise.  Full of despair, I just wanted to shut down completely.  However I did my best to cover up my hurt feelings.

"Fogo was right about those pictures.  He followed Liz around like a puppy.  Every time I looked, he was taking another picture of her.  I am sure that is how they connected."

"Her name sounds familiar.  Was that the same girl who flattened you playing volleyball a month ago?"

I smiled ruefully.  "Oh, shut up.  Yeah, same girl." 

Sunday afternoon volleyball was a well-established tradition for the gang.  That is how I met Liz.  While we played, I noticed she was a very good athlete.  After I complimented her, Liz shared that she was a former field hockey all-star in college.  Trust me, I believed her, especially after we collided.  As we played volleyball, Liz and I went for the same ball.  Liz had been trained to get the ball first and worry about anyone who might be in the way afterwards.  Unfortunately, due to my blind left eye, I never saw Liz coming.  I was totally blind-sided.  When we collided, it felt like running into an oak tree full speed.  Except in this case it was a 'moving' oak tree to add to the impact.  I had never been hit that hard in my life, even when I briefly played football. 

There was some irony here.  Once upon a time, I used to knock girls out of the way during volleyball games to get the ball.  Well, Karma circled back and Liz gave me a taste of my own medicine.  I had pegged Liz as the soft, delicate feminine type.  Now that I knew better, I kept Liz on the side of my good eye for the rest of the day.

Liz was the most impressive woman to enter my life since Patricia three years ago.  I had long wished to meet a woman who was equal to the best and brightest St. John's prep school girls I had grown up with.  Smart, confident, educated and athletic, Liz would have fit right in at St. John's.  I thought we were a good match, so after the volleyball game, I had invited Liz to the Halloween Party.  When she arrived, I was intimidated by how beautiful she was.  Keeping my distance, I watched her from afar for the first hour or so.  To my surprise, Liz turned out to be quite a dancer as well.  This surprised me because I had never seen her in dance class.  I later learned her favorite hobby was folk dancing.  The combination of her beauty and provocative gypsy dancing had a potent effect on my desire.  Finally I worked up the nerve to ask her to dance shortly before the Jungle Fever performance.  Her first words were "What took you so long?" 

My shyness had disappeared the moment Liz made her interest clear.  Our first dance together was electric.  As befit her role as the gypsy temptress, Liz cut loose with a frenzy best described as a mating ritual.  We would not dance again, but exchanged several smiles.  The highlight came when she placed her hand on my shoulder during the group photograph.  That was a moment I would never forget.  I thought we were on the verge of something special.  But then I passed out.  Right now I wanted to kill myself for letting Liz get away.  It was really tough to be philosophical about this.  Women like Liz don't come along very often, so this really hurt.  Losing a prize like her after being so close grated my soul no end. 

Jann interrupted my thoughts with another question.

"I heard you got kind of drunk at the party.  That's very surprising considering your lofty reputation as Mr. Boy Scout and goodie-two shoes."

I frowned.  "I had a drink or two.  So what?  Who told you a mean thing like that?"

"Fogo.  In fact, Fogo said you passed out cold on the couch."

"Gosh, Jann, you of all people should know not to believe everything you hear, especially not from a bullshit artist like Fogo."

Jann gave me another knowing look, then changed the subject.  "Fogo said everyone went insane towards the end.  Why do you suppose everyone got so drunk?"

"Beats the heck out of me [another bald-faced lie]." 

"Fogo claims you went in the Drink Room to look for Bob right after the Group Photograph.  Fogo noticed two empty bottles of Bob's Ever Clear right on the top of the trash can next to the Punch table.  Since you were the only person in there, Fogo thinks you poured those extra bottles into the punch."

See what I mean?  I get blamed for everything.  Why is that?  All I knew is that right now I was in the doghouse with the whole world and Fogo's nasty rumor about me spiking the punch was making my damaged reputation worse.  There was more bad news.  A couple weeks later, my friend Doug Humme told me at volleyball that Liz had a new steady boyfriend.  No surprise there.  Women who look like Liz don't stay unattached for long.  After questioning, to my relief it wasn't Fogo.  I was able to deactivate my jealous streak somewhat, but not much.

There was no doubt Fogo had stolen my girl at the party, then turned around to pass an incorrect rumor about Bob's Everclear mistake.  I was in enough trouble as it was without his big mouth.  Fogo was definitely not one of my favorite people at the moment.  I was ready to murder the guy when something quirky happened to flip my opinion 180 degrees.  At a time when I was enveloped in a post-Halloween funk of gloom and doom, Jim Fogo was responsible for a dramatic uptick in my fortunes.

A few days after the party, Fogo handed me a package.  When I opened it, there was a collection of 40 pictures from the party.  I was flabbergasted at how well his pictures had turned out. 

I had noticed Jim taking pictures, but sniffed with contempt at the time.  Well aware that Fogo was using his camera as a ploy to get attention from pretty girls like Liz, I dismissed it as a cheap stunt.  However, once I saw how effective his ploy was working for him, I changed my opinion.  If you can't dance, use a camera.  To be honest, I was naive about the power of photography.  In fact, I did not even own a camera. 

Fogo's Halloween pictures changed my lousy attitude in a hurry.  Looking at each picture, I began to cheer up a little.  My guests obviously had a much better time at my party than I had realized.  Tickled pink over the big smiles and great costumes, Fogo's pictures gave me an idea.  If I was impressed by Fogo's photos, maybe the participants would be too.  Deciding to share Fogo's pictures with my dance students, I went out and purchased a poster board at Texas Art Supply. 

Which pictures should I use?  If the party had ended at 11 pm, this would have been the greatest party in SSQQ history.  Maybe I should omit the pictures of the naked dancing girls.  Avoiding the Jungle Fever photos would help sanitize my already shaky reputation.  Based on the controversy, why immortalize a sore subject?  But then I changed my mind.  Fogo's pictures were awesome!  Why not put the talent and the beauty of these gorgeous dancers on full display?

While I was at it, what about the ensuing drunken Bacchanalia pictures?  Jim had included some of those too, including one of me passed out (which I promptly ripped to pieces).  Maybe not those pictures.  Best to leave the embarrassing orgy a secret. 

Fogo's photographs allowed me to sugarcoat the truth with an exciting recap of the party.  I glued the best pictures to the poster, applied a plastic cover to preserve them, then hung the poster on the wall of the Hallway for all the world to see.  Although there had been three previous Halloween parties, the 1981 Party became the first SSQQ party to have a poster to document the event.

To my delight the Poster was a huge hit.  Everyone crowded around.  They loved the pictures!  I grinned as people who had been at the party gathered round to laugh and tease each other.  They had a blast pointing to the awesome costumes and sharing anecdotes.  In years to come, 500 people would claim they had been there.  Given the crowd hovered around 125, I took that as a compliment.  My biggest surprise came when I discovered people who had not been to the party were just as fascinated.  Participants and non-attendees alike were equally impressed by the great costumes and the big smiles.  They loved to stare at the hijinks and imagine what they missed.  Seeing Bob in his Wizard's costume brought him untold amounts of Fame.  Of course it helped that Fogo blamed the Everclear problem on me.  As a result, Bob skated free of all blame (add that to the list of why Life is not fair).  Now that all the students had seen the pictures, they regretted not being there and swore to join the fun next year.

The 1981 Halloween Poster was the groundbreaker.  From that point on, photographs became a major part of the studio's formula for success.  I loved the posters because they demonstrated the traditions and greatness of SSQQ in a way that words could never equal.

Thanks to Jim Fogo, the guy who stole my girl, I was able to discover how much the guests appreciated getting their picture taken and having it displayed.  Jim's pictures were so phenomenal at promoting future parties, I made a point to hire someone to take pictures at the annual Halloween Party and other major parties such as the Sock Hop and Christmas Party.  Using those photos, making a party poster after all my major parties became standard operating procedure. 

The long Hallway came to play a major role.  When people registered at the start of each month for new classes, they were briefly forced to wait in line for their turn to see the Registrar.  With nothing else to do while they waited, veterans and newcomers alike would study the Party Posters hanging on the wall. 

Old-timers would say, "Hey, check out my costume!  That was a great party!" 

Newcomers would comment to a friend, "Who are those people?  They're having a great time.  Hey, that's a great dance picture!  And look at those costumes.  That's a good idea for a costume!  Maybe I will wear that to next year's Halloween party!"

Another place where the pictures helped was giving attending guests a sense of importance.  It was neat to see how proud my students were to pose for a picture.  They liked being part of something special.  Having their picture on the wall increased their sense of ownership in the studio's growing community.  It also gave them a powerful incentive to wear top-flight costumes and hear the compliments.  These pictures immortalized the night they came as Darth Vadar, Elvira, and Wonder Woman.

Following the success of 1981 Halloween Party Poster, I took the cue and immediately created a poster to promote Graduation Night at the Winchester Club.  Now when I extolled the charms of Graduation Night to new students, I had pictures to prove my point and fuel their imagination.  My only regret was not having a picture of Crazy Jane.  One look at Jane in her 'Slow Slow Quick Quick' regalia would have tripled attendance. 

Although I found it hard to believe, following the 1981 Halloween Party from Hell, Fogo's pictures changed people's opinion overnight.  As they say, every picture tells a story.  Once people saw the great costumes and all the fun, the initial negativity quickly dissipated.  Even the Jungle Fever pictures met with approval.  Maybe not with everyone, but I would say the jazz dance pictures were the favorites for obvious reasons. 

The guys were typically obnoxious.  "Those girls were AWESOME!  Are they coming to the next party?  Will they promise to wear the same outfit?"  

I invariably answered, "Go to hell!" with a half-frown, half-smile expression.  The guys grinned at my discomfort and promised never to bring up the subject again.  Or at least not till next week.  Being a good sport about the razzing, I made a lot of new friends.  Over time, even the women started to tease me.  When they told me what a terrible bad boy I had been, to my relief they smiled affectionately.  In fact, everyone eventually agreed the whole Jungle Fever story was incredibly funny, even the women.  

Pretty soon the negative attitudes were swept away thanks to the overwhelming popularity of the party pictures.  Thanks to Jim Fogo, I was out of the doghouse.  If anything, now I was getting complimented.  Imagine that.  I had been soundly criticized following the party, but now I was being praised for throwing the best Halloween Party of all time.  I never saw this development coming, but I was sure was happy about it. 

Jim Fogo's pictures turned everything around.  Without those pictures, people's fond memories of the wild party would have faded into obscurity and I would have remained in the doghouse.  Instead Fogo's pictures created an immortal testimony to the incredible story of the 1981 Halloween Party. 

People could not stop talking about all the fun they had.  Words like 'GREATEST HALLOWEEN PARTY I'VE EVER BEEN TO!' spread like wildfire.  What an amazing change of fortune!  Typical me, win some, lose some.  I had let another beautiful woman slip away, but I was comforted by the dramatic advance of the studio's reputation.  As always, lucky in career, pathetic in love. 

The crowning moment came one afternoon when Glen thanked me.  It seems that someone who had been at the party liked what they saw and hired his dancers to perform at a party of their own.  Glen even managed to say he liked the pictures of his dancers.  In fact, he might even let me throw another party someday if I promised not to stink up the woman's restroom. 

This has been the story of how SSQQ became famous for throwing the best Halloween Party in town.  Thanks to Fogo, the 1981 party acquired legendary status.  Attendance the following year doubled and the reputation of our party kept growing from there.  I had gotten 'Dumb Lucky' yet again.  Isn't it curious how often that kept happening to me?  The way Silver Linings always seemed to follow me around, I chalked it up to Fate.  And now you know why I say I have led a charmed life.