MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

WALKING WITH DESTINY

Written by Rick Archer 

MONDAY night, SEPTEMBER 10, 1979 THE DIE HARD DANCE CLASS

It was Monday, September 10.  Due to Labor Day, September dance classes skipped Monday last week and started on Tuesday instead.  Sad to say, the overall enrollment last week had been anemic.  With the grand total hovering around 80, I was counting on my Monday Acrobatics class to get us to 100.  All summer long this had been my biggest class.  It was full of veteran students who had been with me anywhere from six months to a year.  Long ago they had fallen in love with Disco dancing.  Wrapping their lives around the studio, they required no persuasion to continue taking classes.  Every time a class ended, they automatically showed up the following week to sign up for the next go-round.  I was hoping and praying this tradition would continue tonight.  And so it did.  25 people strolled in and immediately began dancing to the music I provided for warm-up.  I smiled.  The gang's all here.  Thank goodness for their loyalty.

This class was my lone bright spot in an otherwise thoroughly depressing month.  The main reason for the success of this class was friendship.  In addition to the Pistachio Club every Friday night, this class had a secondary tradition of going dancing after class on Monday evenings.  The class that dances together sticks together.  Over time these students had grown very fond of each other.  And fond of me as well I suppose.  Ordinarily I maintained a teacher/student wall of sorts, but that barrier had grown very thin over time.  I considered most of these people my friends as well as students.  We were a happy family.

However things were not the same tonight.  There was a pall hanging over us known as Urban Cowboy.  We all knew it was just a matter of time.  As such, thanks to Lynette, one of the class leaders, our group had acquired a new nickname.  We were now the 'Die Hards'.  Everyone swore to keep dancing till the last Disco closed. 

As usual, at the end of class Lynette announced she was headed over the Pistachio Club for half an hour of dancing, maybe longer if enough guys showed up to make it worth her while.  A show of hands revealed 10 people would join her. 

"What about you, Rick?" she asked.

"I'll be there."

This had been Jennifer's class back in August.  However, we had made a mutual decision that she avoid the dance studio in September.  Best to lay low until my volatile situation with Victoria was resolved.  As I drove to the Pistachio Club to join the group, I wished she was with me.

TUESDAY night, SEPTEMBER 11 VICTORIA WANTS TO MOVE IN

Now it was Tuesday, September 11.  That meant facing Victoria again.  I was not looking forward to it.

Why was Victoria even here?  Following the Karate Chop, Victoria was so spooked by the Dance Curse that she had quit performing and taking private lessons.  In addition, she refused to return to Friday Camelot-Pistachio or Sunday Annabelle's.  What was left?  Not much.  Back in July, Victoria taught 4 classes per week, two on Tuesday, two on Thursday, to a total of 100-120 students.  In September she was down to two classes on Tuesday, 5 in one, 9 in the other.  Thursday was even worse.  One class was cancelled.  The other had only 3 people, so Victoria joined my class and brought them with her.  That should give everyone an idea how much the Dancing Cowboy had diminished our once proud Disco program.  Given the severe attrition, I was at a loss to explain why this crazy woman was still here. 

I tried to sneak out after dance class, but Victoria was not to be denied.  Just as I was getting in my car following dance class, Victoria came up from behind and scared me to death by tapping on the window. 

Victoria barked at me, "Where do you think you're going?"  Then she pointed to her car.  "Over there.  Now!"

I wanted to lock the door and drive off, but changed my mind.  Given that Victoria was hopping mad, I reluctantly switched to her spacious car.  Victoria wasted no time.  

"Rick, I am so angry at you I could spit.  First you barely spoke to me last week.  You never answer the phone and tonight I catch you trying to get away from me.  I demand an explanation!!"

The explanation was Jennifer.  I thought it prudent to avoid mentioning her.

"I'll tell you why I've been avoiding you.  I am upset that you canceled Annabelle's and quit taking private lessons with me.  I am angry that you failed to discuss your marriage with Michael over Labor Day like you promised.   For two Fridays in a row the energy at Pistachio has been at an all-time low without you.  I am sick and tired of people asking where you are.  I can't do this alone.  We used to be a team, but not anymore."

"Look, Rick, I am sorry about Camelot.  I don't know why so much bad luck has been chasing me around lately.  I am a nervous wreck from listening to Michael scream at me all the time.  I can't wait for Car Talk on Tuesday and Thursday because it is the only peace I get.  I sit here in the dark talking to you as long as I can because I cannot bear to go home and have Michael yell at me some more.  I have never seen him so angry.  At least you don't scream at me.  I don't know what to do."

"If you think you have problems, so do I.  I am really depressed to see Disco dying before my eyes.  Attendance is way down this month, another Disco called Boccaccio recently closed, and Camelot was a shell of its former self last Friday.  You are not helping things with your Dance Curse paranoia.  If you aren't willing to contribute, why should I bother talking to you?"

"You know damn well that I am having marital problems.  Plus I haven't felt like dancing after nearly killing that woman at Annabelle's."

"Tell me again how old you are... 30, 35, 40?  Right now you are acting like a spoiled teenager.  Did you notice how small your classes are this month?  It is the same for me.  There are virtually no new students and the old-timers are dropping like flies.  Now I see you are using a freak accident as an excuse to avoid your role in the dance program.  Your absence at the Pistachio Club for the past two Fridays has crippled our program at a time when people are already worried that Disco is going to be knocked off the map by Country-Western.  Here I am fighting to keep the few students I have left interested in Disco and you are nowhere to be seen.  Quit babbling about this stupid Dance Curse and get back to work."

Victoria did not like my answer.  She asked several probing questions, but I simply repeated what I just said over and over like a broken record.  Tiring of her interrogation, I decided to change the subject.  "Okay, Victoria, give it to me straight.  How are things at home?"

"They suck!"  With that, Victoria began to cry.  When she finished, Victoria explained why she was so upset.  "Michael and I really got into it last night.  We are arguing almost every night now."

I frowned.  This reminded me of my own childhood tears.  My parents had quarreled constantly in the days leading up to their divorce.  Their daughter must be going out of her mind with fear.  I felt so sorry for the kid.  "How is Stephanie handling it when you argue?"

"Oh, Jesus, not well, not well at all.  Stephanie is crying in her room practically every time I walk past.  I am sick about this.  Michael is just as upset.  He says he can't take much more of this.  Michael is at his wit's end with me.  He wants me to quit the studio or leave the house.  He says if I don't quit the studio, he'll divorce me and sue for custody.  But I think he's bluffing.  I don't believe Michael would dream of following through on his threats."

This was no surprise.  I had heard her tell me this before.  The advent of September marked the one year anniversary of my friendship with Victoria.   What a difference a year makes.  At this time last year, Victoria had lit up my dance program like a bonfire.  Now she was busy tearing her marriage to pieces.  My biggest fear is that she would tear down my dance program as well.  I didn't blame Michael for being fed up.  A year is a long time to put up with an intolerable situation.  Victoria's infatuation with me and her fascination with the Disco program had sorely tried Michael's patience.  I imagined he spent every waking moment sick with worry over Victoria's weird obsession with Disco and her unwillingness to fix their marriage.  No doubt he blamed Victoria for Stephanie's misery.

As we spoke in the dark, Victoria was riddled with fear.  With Michael threatening to leave, Victoria was terrified of losing him.  She would not admit it, but Michael was her anchor.  Now with me not returning her phone calls and walking away from her, Victoria felt threatened by my new-found independence.  Well, tough.  Victoria should have thought about that back when she and Darya laughed poolside over the joys of infidelity.  Now that Victoria had alienated Michael and me, she was fearful of losing us both at once.

Thanks to my relationship with Jennifer, for the first time in ages I was able to watch Victoria with a certain amount of detachment.  I found myself mesmerized by Victoria's endless litany of woes.  I had never seen a woman chase her own tail quite like Victoria.  And surely this had to be a terrible ordeal for Michael.  I felt sorry for him.  The poor guy had to live with this mixed-up woman and die inside knowing his daughter was adversely affected by the turmoil.  I also felt sorry for Victoria.  Although one side of me detested her, another side remembered the gratitude I had long felt towards Victoria.  If only there was a way to recapture the glory days of yesteryear. 

Victoria got very quiet for a couple minutes.  As I waited, the words to Carole King's song 'It's Too Late' passed through my mind.

"You were light and breezy and I knew just what to do.  Now you look so unhappy and I feel like a fool."

Finally Victoria spoke up. 

"Rick, I want to move in with you.  I am in so much pain right now I think I am going to lose my mind.  If I could just get some peace and quiet, I think I could sort things out.  I think the break would help Michael too."

Huh?  Did she just say what I think she said?  In that instant, I stopped breathing.  As my heart raced with panic, I said, "Victoria, you are playing with fire.  Where did that idea come from?"

"I would move in with you, of course.  That is what you suggested back in July."

Dying a million deaths, I said, "Um, remind me what you think I said back in July."

"You said, 'When you decide to leave your husband and move in with me, we can talk.'  So I brought it up with Michael last night.  He's all for it, so let's talk about it."

Thank God we were talking in the dark because I had turned white as a ghost.  It was true, back in July I really said that.  I meant it at the time, but that was before Victoria handed me the Husband List.  Ever since that moment, all deals were off.  Full of panic, I replied, "Victoria, you can stop right there.  That was two and a half months ago.  A lot has changed since then."

"Quit playing stupid.  You've been asking me to move in with you ever since you broke up with Patricia.  Where else am I supposed to go?  I'm supposed to be your girlfriend, remember?"

Girlfriend?  Since when?  Maybe in her mind, but not mine.  Sidestepping the girlfriend comment, I asked, "What exactly did Michael say?"

"Michael said, 'Help yourself to happiness.  If he can afford you, there's the door.'  You want to know something interesting?  I don't think Michael was kidding.  I bet Michael would be thrilled if I moved out.  He would find some day care center for Stephanie and move on from me in a flash.  Maybe moving in with you is the best thing for all us."  

I seriously doubted Michael had said anything of the sort, but I would worry about that later.  Right now I needed to put a swift end to this very bad idea.

"Just to set the record straight, I did not officially invite you to move in with me.  What I said was we would talk about it if you left your husband.  If I remember correctly, first you suggested you were about to leave him, but when you returned to Houston after the 4th of July, you got cold feet.  I asked what had changed and you said 'Things are different now.'   So I am going to say the same thing to you.  Things are different now.  There are a lot of issues such as what you intend to do about your daughter.  In addition, I want to speak with Michael.  I need to know EXACTLY where Michael stands before I interfere with his family any more than I already have."

Victoria blew a gasket.  "God damn it!  Leave Michael out of this!" she screamed.  "This is between you and me!"

Victoria paused to regain control, then continued.

"Goddamn you anyway.  You know what, Rick, you are exactly what my father said you were.  You are a Playboy.  You make promises, you lead me on, and then you pull the rug out at the exact moment I need you.  My father has never met you, but he has you pegged.  He said you were using me to create your career, but the moment I was of no value, you would shut the door.  My father saw this coming three months ago.  I told him no, you were a stand-up guy.  Now I know better."

Victoria paused.  When I did not respond, Victoria continued.

"You made a promise to me.  If you have any sense of honor, you would acknowledge that I have jeopardized my marriage based on your offer.  You said if I left my husband, you would be there for me.  I expect you to live up to your word."

I winced at her excellent use of guilt.  Victoria definitely had a way with words.  But I had no sympathy.  I had given her two months to make up her mind, more than enough time.  She could run all the guilt trips she wanted, but nothing would change my mind.  It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed this crazy woman into my house.  Now that Jennifer had entered my life, all I wanted to do was head for the exit door. 

"Listen, Victoria, this is a very serious subject.  It is getting late and we both need to give what you said more thought.  We can talk about this again the next time I see you."

"No, I want to talk about it right now!"

"Fine.  Then talk to the steering wheel.  I'm leaving."

TUESDAY night, SEPTEMBER 11 JENNIFER IS ANGRY

As I drove home, I seethed with anger.  I could not believe Victoria had the nerve to suggest she would move in with me whenever it suited her.  If Victoria thought I would let her through my door, she had an ugly surprise awaiting her.  It was late when I got home, 11 pm, but I was feeling sorry for myself so I called Jennifer.  Bad idea.  For starters I could tell she had been asleep.  To my surprise, before I could say a word, Jennifer tore into me.

"Rick, who is Victoria?"

Uh oh.  From the pot to the frying pan.  Hearing the fire in her voice, I stopped breathing for the second time tonight.  Trying to stay calm, I replied, "Victoria is a woman who teaches at the studio.  Until recently she was my dance partner, but those days are over."

"If there is one thing I hate more than anything else in the world, it is men who lie by omission.  From what I gather, Victoria is also your girlfriend.  When did you expect to get around to mentioning that small detail?"

They say when it rains it pours.  Tonight was a monsoon. 

"Jennifer, I have nothing to hide.  I will tell you whatever you wish to know.  However, first I want you to explain where you heard about Victoria."

"I had lunch today with Claudia, a friend of mine here at work.  Claudia is a former student of yours.  She is the person who recommended your dance classes to me.  When I mentioned that you and I have started dating, Claudia got a dark look on her face.  She warned me about you and Victoria."

"I have no idea who Claudia is.  Why would you take her word on something that is not true?"

"Claudia knows what she saw.  Last summer Claudia visited the Pistachio Club on Friday night several times.  She said Victoria hung all over you and walked around with you arm in arm.  She told anyone who asked that she was your girlfriend."

"Well, there is some truth to that.  However there are two sides to every story.  I do not doubt that Victoria said something like that behind my back.  And it is true that Victoria has acted like we are an item ever since her husband stopped coming on Fridays..."

Jennifer gasped, then interrupted.  "Victoria is married?!"

And the hole gets deeper...

"Yes.  Victoria has a bad habit of ignoring her wedding ring when Michael isn't around.  However, I have never committed to Victoria.  There is a lot to this story you don't know about."

Jennifer was nearly inaudible as she whispered, "Okay, I'm listening."

Over the next hour, I did my best to explain the whole story.  Jennifer said very little other than ask questions.  I took her silence to mean she was not sure whether to believe me or not.  Finally Jennifer spoke up.

"If there is one thing I do not like, it's men who lie to me."

"I have not lied to you."

"Bullshit.  I have to get some sleep.  Goodnight."

WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 12 WHY ARE THERE NO WESTERN TEACHERS?

It was Wednesday, September 12.  Later this afternoon I was scheduled to meet Joanne for Round Two of Western dancing.  Sitting in the kitchen drinking my morning coffee, I was in a weird mood.  Things were not going very well.  In particular, last night had been horrible.  First Victoria, then Jennifer.  Then there was the sad state of my business.  My Die Hard class on Monday was the only bright spot.  Otherwise attendance was anemic, barely crossing 100 students this month.  Compare that to 500 in April, 400 in July.  Plus I had this awful Meyerland problem to deal with.  Thoroughly depressed, the last thing I wanted was another round of Helen Keller C&W lessons.  But what choice did I have?  Given the state of Disco, Meyerland represented my only chance to prolong my dance career.  But even that was a long-shot.  There was something nagging me about Country-Western in general, so I gave it some thought.

I once told myself I would do ANYTHING to make my dance career work, but I never imagined my sacrifice would include doing something I was dead set against.  I hated everything to do with the word 'Country' in it, yet here I was faking my way through my first class.  Thanks to this strange Meyerland class, I suppose I was now a Country-Western teacher.  However I could hardly be called 'qualified'.  Considering I was teaching this class against my will, this was an extremely weird development   

Given my revulsion towards Country, how was this bizarre situation even possible?  I only accepted this job because I assumed I could find a competent teacher to help me.  No luck.  If there was another Western teacher out there, they had yet to cross my radar.  So the joke was on me.  Instinct told me I very well could be the only Western teacher in Houston.  That really bothered me.  Why were there no other teachers?  I could think of two reasons, lack of demand and lack of necessity. 

Although there were countless Country music fans in Houston, there was no tradition of dancing.  Until Urban Cowboy came along when I was 29, I never knew country dancing even existed.  Back in the Sixties and Seventies, Houston teenagers danced to what they saw on TV.  Soul Train, Where the Action Is, American Bandstand, Hullabaloo, etc.  The dancing on those shows was done to pop music and Motown.  When I was a young man, all the Houston dance clubs played the same music. 

Why were there no 'Country Dance' TV shows?  Frankly speaking, who wants to watch people move in slow motion?  There was nothing to look at, nothing clever enough to capture people's imagination.  In other words, there was no demand for teachers because no one was interested in country dancing. 

The other reason was the utter simplicity of the material.  When I say the material was easy enough to learn during a person's first trip to the dance floor, I mean it.  How much training do you need to stand still? 

While it was true that the Wizard of Oz stirred up a hornet's nest of interest in John Travolta during the summer of 1979, that did not move the needle when it came to dancing.  Maybe I should qualify that.  As one Western club after another opened, I suppose they did good business.  However, during this time, no one called me for lessons.  Why not?  My guess is that once the customers saw how easy the dancing was, they learned it on the spot.  As I continue to point out, the beauty of Disco dancing from an instructor's point of view was the 'Complexity'.  Since very few people had the ability to learn Disco partner dancing by watching or trial and error, they chose to take lessons instead.  But this was not the case with Western.  No teachers required.

So why did the Meyerland Club need a teacher?  BECAUSE THEY DID NOT KNOW ANY BETTER!  Since no one had the slightest idea what Country dancing looked like, they just assumed they needed a teacher.  Seriously, if one person from Meyerland had taken a trip to one of the new Western clubs here in Houston, they would have realized teachers are not necessary.  However, rather than check out the scene, they assumed Western was just as complicated as Disco.  To their surprise, there was no teacher to be found until I decided to take a major gamble.  Now it was my turn to be surprised.  These people could care less about learning Country dancing.  This whole thing was related to a wild spending spree at the posh fashion stores to grab the new Urban Cowboy attire. 

In other words, my Meyerland Club job was an accident, a fluke, a cosmic joke.  Now that I had discovered there was no real interest in Western dancing, I was very disheartened.  How did I know there was no interest?  Because no one else was calling for lessons.  Based on what I had seen so far, when this job was over at the end of October, there would be nothing left to take its place.  As they say in the oil industry, this well was a dry hole. 

IN THE GRIP OF FATE

Once I realized there would be nothing waiting for me at the end of tunnel, I was overwhelmed with despair.  My main reason for accepting this job - the Future - had just vanished. 

Do you know what happens when oil drillers discover a dry hole?  They quit.  Without any promise that an oil well will be capable of producing sufficient quantities, there is no reason to carry on.  However I could not quit Meyerland.  I had already taught one class, so my sense of integrity would not allow me to back out now.  Plus Joanne was depending on the money I had promised her.  No, I could not quit even though I wanted to. 

However, I did have another option.  I could mail it in.  Due to my skill at impersonating a dance instructor, I could probably continue to fool these people with a minimum of effort.  I was relieved that last Sunday's class had gone as well as it did, but I felt ashamed for fooling them.  They had been very nice to Joanne and me, so I was dealing with a certain amount of guilt. 

I was also overcome by the absurdity.  It was ridiculous to think I had taught these people how to dance the Polka when I did not even know how to dance it myself.  Even more absurd, I did not even know what the Polka looked like.  No one had danced it during my one visit to the Cactus Club.  Why not?  Joanne said the men hated it because the Polka moved too fast and the women hated it because the men made them dance backwards the entire song.

Given my acute ignorance, one might ask why I was so sure I could fake my way through seven more classes. 

BECAUSE I HAD DONE IT ONCE BEFORE.

Strangely enough, I had been in this same position of not knowing what I was doing when Disco came to town.  When Saturday Night Fever hit big in January 1978, this unheralded movie was so unexpected, no one in Houston but me was ready for it.  Believe it or not, I was the only Disco teacher in the city with an 'Advertised Group Class'.  Fortunately I was well-prepared to teach Disco Line Dances and 'shake your booty' Freestyle patterns.  Thanks to three years as a Disco student myself, I handled the massive influx of students just fine.  The first two months were easy for me, a honeymoon so to speak.  Then came the crisis.  

What made Saturday Night Fever so popular was the partner dance contest seen at the end of the movie.  The beauty of the scintillating footwork and acrobatics really caught people's imagination.  'Partner Dancing' had been pretty much non-existent in America since the Happy Days Sock Hop Era of the Fifties.  Now thanks to John Travolta, interest in partner dancing came back to life overnight.  This was good news, this was bad news.  The bad news is that my boss told me I had seven days to begin teaching partner dancing at the start of March.  Considering I had never 'partner danced' in my life, I was terrified.  When my boss refused to teach me, I was even more terrified.  To my amazement, I was rescued thanks to a series of lucky breaks.  Various people at the Pistachio Club offered me enough clues to put together a workable system of partner dancing just in time to meet my deadline.  From there I used 'Fake it till you Make it' to scramble my way to triumph.  That was the good news.

More important, Disco Partner Dancing became the lucky break that solidified the early stages of my dance career.  Although Disco Line Dances and Freestyle moves were fun, they were so easy to learn most students took one class and were never seen again.  On the other hand, Disco Partner Dancing was so difficult to learn that students often took as many as six months of classes.  The ones who were seriously hooked like the Die Hards took over a year of classes.  As I said earlier, the beauty of Disco Partner Dancing was its complexity.

Unfortunately, there was no similar complexity to Western Partner Dancing.  It was so easy most people could learn it out on the floor.  So why was it so hard for me to learn?  I did not know what it looked like.  Nor did I have anyone to show me how to do it.  Poor Joanne, she meant well, but she was just slightly better than useless.  So why not visit a Western club like I used to do with the Disco clubs?  Based on my hatred of all things Country, I stubbornly refused to visit another club.  This deprived of the chance to look around the dance club and watch for clues like I had done with Disco partner dancing.  It was the Blind leading the Blind. 

Fortunately, the Disco Era had given me the experience necessary to overcome my Country-Western handicap of no teacher.  It was called 'Fake it till I Make it'.  During my early Disco days I discovered a dance teacher only has to know slightly more than the students he or she teaches.  As long as I had something new to teach each week, I could bluff my way through a two-month class one week at a time.  All I had to do was learn a little bit, survive the lesson, then learn a little bit more. 

My strategy worked, but it was not easy.  Every class it seemed like something I never anticipated caused a problem.  I was frequently forced to use smoke and mirrors to avoid being exposed.  So what saved me?  I learned that whenever a student makes a mistake, they invariably blame themselves.  I remember the time a student clipped his partner in the nose during class.  As she sat there crying till the pain went away, he blamed himself.  Meanwhile I cringed inside.  If I had taught the move properly, that mistake would have never happened in the first place.  But was I going to tell him that?  What do you think?  OF COURSE NOT!

Back in the days of Disco 'Fake it till I Make it', I bit my fingernails to shreds due to my fear of being exposed.  At the time, I vowed I would never again allow myself to endure such gut-wrenching anxiety.  Never say Never.  Now I was being tormented by the same dread as yesteryear.  However, I suppose if I could do it once, I could do it again.  Due to a truly weird Twist of Fate, the Meyerland Club opportunity was forcing me to resurrect my 'One Step Ahead' strategy.  Like I said, I learned back in my Disco days that it was not necessary to know everything in advance.  All I needed to know was enough to get me through my next class, then I would repeat the process next week.  If it worked for Disco, it would probably work for Western as well.  I expected to learn enough from Joanne to eke my way through eight classes one week at a time.  Why?  As they say in Texas, this was not my first Rodeo. 

Winston Churchill once said, "I felt as if I were walking with destiny, and that all my past life had been but a preparation for this hour and for this trial."

What did he mean by that?  A firm believer in predestination, Churchill believed his whole life had trained him for the high office he alone seemed capable of filling during the war.  Marked both by both triumph as well as adversity, his experience with difficult military campaigns and political battles helped shape his ability to navigate the perils of World War II.

The conviction that Fate had prepared him for this job fueled his unwavering resolve.  This confidence enabled him to inspire a fearful nation facing what seemed to be insurmountable odds.

While I certainly would not compare the seriousness of my dilemma to that of Winston Churchill, I definitely felt a kinship.  Without my previous experience during the Disco Era, I would have NEVER had the courage to take on a gamble as risky as the Meyerland class.

This realization led to a serious case of 'deja vu'.  Yet again I was the only teacher in Houston.  Yet again I had lucked into a golden opportunity through no merit of my own.  Yet again there was no teacher present to help me.  Yet again I had no idea what I was doing.  Yet again I intended to fake my way through one week at a time. 

Now I had another realization.  This was a job that paid $2,000 for 8 hours of work.  At my previous job I was paid $1,700 for a month of work, 160 hours total.  Given this incredible payday, anyone in his right mind would be an idiot to turn this job down.  And yet Sandy insisted she and her friends had contacted ten dance studios before me.  Assuming that each studio had at least ten instructors, not one of them said yes.  Here is my point.  Given the enormous amount of money on the table, what stopped someone from taking the same gamble?  Why me and not them?  Probably due to my previous experience.  99% of all dance teachers learn what to teach ahead of time.  Not me.  I was once given seven days to learn how to teach partner dancing.   Thrown to the wolves, it took a strange series of lucky breaks to save my job.  As a result, I imagine I was the only dance teacher in Houston with six months of practice impersonating a dance instructor.  Not that I was particularly proud of myself, but surely that was the reason the other people had said 'No'.    

Due to my familiarity with the Churchill quote, I too believed I was walking with Destiny.  Ordinarily I do not associate events with Fate as they occur, but rather further down the road once the impact is known.  This situation was different.  I believed I was observing a Fated Event as it took place.  Why?  Because everywhere I turned, I was faced with 'weirdness'.

  I was only teacher in Houston with experience at 'Faking It'
  The lucky Meyerland opportunity had been turned down by 10 studios before coming to me
  Given my bad attitude, I had no business becoming the first Western teacher in Houston
  Victoria's vicious treatment had turned Joanne into the only person who could help me. 

Now I thought of another famous quote. 

"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how."  -- Friedrich Nietzsche

Nietzsche's quote emphasized the importance of having a vital reason for living.  Having a 'Why' would serve a source of strength and resilience in the face of adversity.  Not only did I despise the music and the dancing, I had already decided there was no pot of gold waiting for me.  Convinced there was no future, what was the point of learning this in the first place?

That is where my belief in Fate came to my rescue.  Despite my doubt that there was any practical value in learning how to teach Country-Western dancing, my mystical belief said that this was my Fate whether I liked it or not.  If so, maybe there was hope after all.  When Fate is involved, anything is possible.  I now had my 'Why'.  If this is what God wants me to do, I would use my 'Fake it till you Make it' technique to overcome the difficult challenges ahead.

Suspicious

Coincidence
Lucky Break

Suspicious

Lucky Break

Serious

Coincidence
Synchronicity