MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR:

ONE IN A MILLION

Written by Rick Archer 

FINAL WEEKEND OF SEPTEMBER, 1979 THE PRESSURE MOUNTS

Victoria's obsession had Jennifer badly spooked.  If I could get Victoria to leave me alone, I believed I could win a head to head battle with Jeff.  Jennifer had practically said so herself.  She didn't want 'to settle', her words.  But she didn't want to get burned either.  Unfortunately, Jennifer held the Upper Hand.  She had her choice of two men, so how was I going to win with Victoria's tentacles all over me?  This impasse with Victoria was pure agony.  I have never handled worry very well.  All weekend long I was on pins and needles.  Faced with the definite possibility of losing the woman I wanted to marry, I was haunted by visions of Jennifer walking into the sunset hand in hand with Jeff.  

On the other hand, I did have some hope to sustain me.  My instinct said I had the inside track to Jennifer's heart.  However, the only way I could get my skittish girlfriend to trust me would be to get rid of Victoria ASAP.  The uncertainty was so maddening, I could barely tolerate this endless waiting game.  Now I knew how Michael felt.  Victoria had been threatening to leave him for months.  I could not imagine how Michael handled living with this nutcase. 

•  Michael thought he was losing Victoria.  Sitting at home every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday night, surely the dark thoughts of what his wife was doing behind his back had to hurt like hell.

•  Victoria thought she was losing me.  She could feel it in her bones.

•  Jennifer thought she was losing me.  That is why she was pursuing her backup option.

•  I thought I was losing Jennifer.  Her decision to see Jeff this weekend shook me to the core.

Conclusion?  When people are scared, they do stupid things.  At least one of us, maybe more, was bound to do something stupid.  As it turned out, that was the best prediction I made all weekend.

I had no idea how this crazy rollercoaster ride was going to end, but I could not take much more of this.  So far, waiting for Victoria to make up her mind had gotten me nowhere.  Therefore sitting back passively was no longer the answer.  I had to take some sort of action.  I was almost 30 years old.  In all this time I had yet to win a head to head battle with a romantic rival.  Despite my Epic Losing Streak, I liked my chances with Jennifer.  She and I were a very good match.  Unlike Patricia who found constant fault with me, Jennifer liked what she saw.  Although she had not said it out loud, I believed Jennifer was in love with me... or at least she had been till Victoria put the fear of losing me into her.  If I could extricate myself from Victoria, I was certain I could win this battle with Jeff.  The thought of losing Jennifer was too much too bear, which was probably the same thing Victoria and Jennifer felt about me.  As for Michael, in his case losing Victoria might be a relief at this point.  On the other hand, Victoria had been an awesome wife until I came along.  Michael had to be so bitter.  From where I stood, Michael had done nothing to deserve Victoria's two-timing treachery.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON, SEPTEMBER 29 FAREWELL, MY FRIENDS

Last Saturday the Clear Lake Seven had reluctantly told me it was time to say goodbye.  They did not give a reason, but I am fairly sure it had something to do with the difficulty of the September Acrobatics I had warned them about.  In particular several couples had really struggled this month, so I think they were starting to see my point.  There was incredible warmth as we hugged and said goodbye.  I told everyone I loved them dearly and took great pride in their accomplishments.

This was not the complete end.  On Saturday, September 29, Tommy and Hazel drove up to Houston to take a private Acrobatics lesson.  Tommy was a big guy with the build of a football linebacker.  Hazel had the classic petite figure of a cheerleader.  Acrobatics came easy to this gifted couple.  They stuck around for two hours learning all sorts of difficult acrobatics that only they had the ability to master.

In late October Tommy and Hazel won a hotly-contested dance contest at the Lighthouse.  To be honest, I did not know about it or I would have gone to watch.  Their victory came against skilled couples that included several professional dancers.  Their victory was no fluke.  Nor was it based on a popularity vote like some dance contests.  Tommy and Hazel won because they were talented.  No Teddy Bear this time, but they did not seem to mind.  The reward was an all-expense-paid weekend in Cancun. 

I mention their accomplishment for a couple of reasons.  The progress Tommy and Hazel made as well as the other six couples helped me believe I had real talent as a dance instructor.  Relevant to this story, Tommy and Hazel benefitted greatly from my decision to extend teaching the Clear Lake class into September.  Without the difficult acrobatics they learned in my continuation class, there is a good chance they would not have won their contest at the Lighthouse.

SUNDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 30 TIGHT SPOT AT THE MEYERLAND CLUB

It was Sunday night, September 30.  Despite my personal crisis, I still had to teach my fourth Meyerland class.  Week Four started out with only half the people from the first week.  That was a very serious attrition rate, much more than usual.  I was not surprised.  Many of the ones who had come for the first week fashion show were never serious.  However, this smaller class could mean trouble.  Given that the clothing was normal and no one resorted to cocktails to get through the night, the remaining few were here to learn.  Indeed, my students seemed to being paying attention.  Ordinarily this was a good thing, but not for an Imposter.

The fourth week of class is usually easy to teach because people start to get the hang of things.  However, due to my inexperience, I had not explained the material very well.  Nor had anyone ever practiced.  This explained why the group made little progress.  The Cotton Eyed Joe review should have been done in five minutes.  Instead we wasted nearly 20 minutes going over it for the umpteenth time.  It was slow going, but I suppose that worked to my advantage.

Joanne and I reviewed what we called 'Transition Polka', man forward, transition, man backwards, transition.  After the review, I told the men to put the women in their arms and practice in a circle around the room to music.  Unfortunately, Joanne made a mistake.  The song she put on was much too fast for these middle-aged people.  It was too fast for me as well.  The Polka is tough to dance if the music is fast, so the inexperienced men were understandably awful.  Most of them could not move their feet that fast.  They frequently stepped on their wives' feet and lost track of their steps.  It was ugly to watch.  Fortunately, they blamed themselves, not me.  Close call.  No longer able to trust Joanne's judgment on music selection, I decided to avoid music for the rest of the night. 

Seeing how bad they were, I reviewed my 'step-together-step' strategy.  That idea worked much better, so much better that I wished I had done this at the start of class.  Unfortunately, that same thought occurred to one of the students.  A man named Bill spoke up.  "Rick, your step-together-step suggestion makes a lot of sense, but why are you telling us now? Why didn't you tell us in the first week?"

As all eyes went to me, Joanne turned white.  I took a deep breath, then replied, "Bill, to tell you the truth, although I go dancing all the time, I am learning how to explain things as we go along.  The interest in western dancing is new here in Houston.  Although I have taught western in private lessons [a huge lie], I have never actually taught Western to a group before.  In other words, I am something of a rookie.  I apologize for that and hope you will be patient with me."

Other than the nonsense about private lessons, I had told the truth about being a rookie.  I had no idea how the students would react.  The room got quiet, so I kept talking.  

"Here's the deal.  You guys are helping me figure out how to explain things.  Unfortunately, you can always tell who the pioneers are.  They are the ones with the arrows in their back.  That describes you guys pretty well."

It was a corny line, but it worked well enough.  People snickered and the tension dissipated.  I would live to fight another day.  Joanne cornered me over by the record player the moment class ended.  "I almost died of fear tonight.  Where did you come up with that stupid line about the pioneers?"

"That's an old joke I used in my Disco classes whenever an acrobatic move wasn't working.  Sometimes I called them 'Victims'.  Other times I called them 'Pioneers' and they all laughed.  I figured the same line would work here too.  I may not know much about country dancing, but I am pretty good at faking my way through awkward moments.  If you remember from the Acrobatics class you helped me teach at the studio, there were several times when I did not know what I was doing."

"That's true.  I always wondered how you got away with that."

"I discovered students tend to blame themselves when a dance move doesn't work right.  As long as I don't take credit for the mistake, the students seem to give me the benefit of the doubt.  I always make a point of figuring out what I did wrong and introduce the solution the following week.  You have seen me do the same thing here in this class.  I may be a fraud, but I do have a conscience.  For example, that step-together-step trick in Polka is an improvement I shared.  However I never expected someone would notice.  I was pretty nervous for a moment there."

Joanne nodded.  "You have no idea how scared I was, especially when you told them how you go Western dancing all the time.  What if someone asked you what clubs you've been to?  You've never been to a single Western club except for the Cactus Club."

"Good point.  I should not have said that."

Joanne was not done chewing me out.  "Where do you get the nerve to say stuff like that?"

I grinned ruefully.  "Um, yeah, a little fib never hurt anybody."

Joanne rolled her eyes.  "A little fib?  Give me a break.  That was a giant Pinocchio!  I could hang clothes on your nose."  Joanne paused for a second, then added, "You should be ashamed of yourself."

I got very quiet for a second.  "You know what?  I want to teach dancing for the rest of my life.  It is the only thing I have ever been any good at.  I would die if I had to give up teaching.  Right now, Western is my only hope.  If I have to lie to scratch my way through this class, then I am prepared to do that."

Joanne nodded.  "I understand and I don't blame you one bit.  But that guy gave you a dirty look.  I think he knows something or suspects something.  So far you have been crazy not to visit a club and check things out.  If you continue to behave like this, you will get caught.  By the way, are you okay?  You don't seem yourself tonight."

No kidding.  I had never been more depressed in my life.  I wanted so much to tell Joanne what was going on, but I knew whatever I said about my twisted love life might hurt her.  Deep down, I believe she still carried a torch.  So instead I whispered one word: "Victoria..."

That's all I had to say.  Joanne's eyes grew large, then she gave me a sympathetic touch on the shoulder.  "Hey, I have an idea.  You want to go dancing?  We don't have to go the Cactus Club.  What about Rodeo?  Maybe if you see some slow slow quick quick in action, you will catch on faster."

It was a good idea; it was the right thing to do.  Joanne looked at me hopefully, but I was too depressed over Jennifer.   Right now I was desperate to see if she had called.  "Maybe another time, Joanne.  Do you want me to walk you to your car?"

"No, I'm fine.  Are you sure you don't want to go dancing?  It might make you feel better."

"Maybe next time."

Joanne rolled her eyes.  "All right, have it your way.  Talk to you later."

After we parted, I wondered what I had ever done to deserve a friend like her.  I had brought this woman so much pain and yet through thick and thin Joanne had never stopped being loyal.  Too bad I couldn't get the same kind of loyalty from Jennifer.

SANDY TRACKS ME DOWN

After Joanne left, I was about to leave when someone came over.  It was Sandy, the lady who hired me.

"I am so glad I caught you, Rick!"

Considering my nerves were shot, I immediately worried that something was wrong.  Fortunately it was a minor matter.

"What's up, Sandy?"

"I forgot to remind you there is no class next week.  We are having our annual fashion show next Sunday."

I could not help but recall those insane Western outfits from Week One. 

"Will your fashion show include some of the fancy western outfits I saw in the first week of class?" 

'Fancy'?  Yes, I was being insincere.  Some of those outfits bordered on garish.  Too much, tone it down.  I admire any woman willing to take a fashion risk, but there has to be a limit. 

Sandy laughed.  "That was pretty crazy, wasn't it?  Yes, there will be plenty of Western fashion on display next week.  Do you want to come watch?"

Now it was my turn to laugh.  "You are talking to the wrong person.  However, now that you're here, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure.  What do you want to know?"

"How did this class come about?"

"That is a funny story.  It was kind of an accident.  One of the ladies at the club knows Lynn Wyatt.  Have you heard of her?"

"Yes.  She's always in the gossip column.  I also saw her picture on the Chronicle's list of the ten best-dressed women in Houston."

Sandy nodded.  "That's her.  Lynn's brother is Robert Sakowitz."

"Is that the man who owns Sakowitz department store?"

"Yes, that's him.  Sakowitz is a high-end fashion store, which is why Lynn knows all the top fashion designers in the country.  Naomi is a friend of mine here at the Meyerland Club.  She's also a close friend of Lynn Wyatt.  Naomi wants to join Lynn on the Best-Dressed List, so she is always trying to get the inside scoop.  Last summer Naomi ran into Lynn at a party and asked her what to expect in Fall fashion.  That's when Lynn passed on a tip.  From what I gather, Oscar de la Renta told Lynn's brother Robert that Western apparel was going to be the new rage.  Even better, they had John Travolta lined up to make it happen.  Robert quoted something Oscar had said, "What John did for Disco, he can do it again for Western!'"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"John Travolta's Disco movie inspired a bonanza of Disco fashion wear.  I assume they expect John's new movie will do the same thing for Western fashion." 

"So someone bet the farm on Western clothing based on John Travolta."

"Exactly.  And it worked!  I hear western apparel is selling like hotcakes.  Meanwhile Naomi shared what Lynn told her with friends here at the Meyerland Club.  The next thing you know, several fashionistas went crazy and cleaned out the Western section at Sakowitz and Neiman Marcus."

"Did their shopping spree have something to do with this dance class?"

"Yes.  As gossip spread, other women in the Meyerland group went shopping too.  While they were at it, they picked up various items for their husbands.  Now the ladies needed an excuse to strut their stuff.  Looking for an opportunity to wear their fancy clothing in public, someone suggested they incorporate a Western theme into the upcoming November Gala.  They hired a C&W band, arranged for catered barbeque and rented Western decorations.  Everything was set until one lady mentioned she had no clue what western dancing was supposed to look like.  The women looked at each other and suddenly realized not one woman in the room knew how to dance country.  They were all under the impression that someone else knew and could show them.  So they panicked and called me to arrange for lessons."

Despite my lousy mood, I managed to smile.  This was all starting to make sense.  With visions of an empty dance floor at the November Gala, someone recommended Western dance lessons.  Since I had previously taught Disco lessons at Meyerland back in the spring, my phone number was on Sandy's list of people to call.

"When you called me around Labor Day, you said you had already called some other people."

"That is correct.  I knew you were a Disco teacher, so I did not think of you at first.  I opened up the Yellow Pages and called several dance studios.  They all said the same thing.  No one knew anything about Country-Western dancing.  I was getting pretty frustrated when I remembered you." 

"On the day we spoke, you also said you had other names you had not called yet."

"I had a few other studios to call.  However I had no idea if any of them knew how to teach Country.  At that point I was just crossing my fingers and hoping someone would say yes.  I decided to take a chance and call you."

At that point Sandy looked at her watch, so I took the hint.  As I drove home, I gave it some thought.  Sandy said she had made a dozen phone calls.  If so, why didn't someone more qualified than me take the job?  Maybe because there was no one qualified in the entire city.  Is that really possible?  No.  There was bound to be someone.  BUT WHO WERE THEY?  HOW WAS SANDY SUPPOSED TO FIND THEM?

Were there individuals who knew how to teach Western?  Of course there were.  I am sure there were plenty of A&M graduates living in Houston who knew enough to teach.  However, they were anonymous.  Lacking word of mouth or useful Internet searches to track them down on short notice, Sandy had no choice but to use the Yellow Pages. 

Sandy said no one she called had any knowledge of Western dancing.  Prior to my inspiration to ask Joanne, I made similar phone calls to dance studios.  When I asked for someone to help me learn Western, I got the same answers.  No one seemed to know a thing about it.  Based on Sandy's experience as well as my own, I doubt there was a single dance studio in Houston which offered Western lessons in 1979.  Why should they?  For one thing, there was no demand, at least not yet. 

Why didn't Sandy call me first?  After all, she had hired me once before.  Sandy said it was because I was a Disco instructor and she doubted I would be interested.  Which was correct, or at least it was correct till I heard about the lucrative price tag.

However, after a dozen rejections, in desperation Sandy called me.  Although I suspect Sandy knew I was full of BS, after getting turned down a dozen times she had no other choice but hope I could deliver.  In other words, I got lucky.  Or maybe it was Fate. 

I wondered about those people Sandy had called before me.  $2,000 was so much money, you would think someone besides me would be willing to take a chance.  But then again, maybe not.  Maybe the professionals had the sense to avoid teaching a style of dance they knew little or nothing about.  As for amateurs such as graduates of Texas A&M, they toiled in obscurity.  Lacking any word of mouth, no one seemed to know an amateur to contact.  Whatever the reason, I got the job due to my unique talent.  What unique talent was that?  Was it my gift for teaching dance?  Oh, heaven's no.  My unique talent was my willingness to teach a dance class even though I had no idea what I was doing.  Not that I was proud of it, but I was the Master of Fake it till you Make it.

When Sandy called, out of all the dance teachers in Houston, I stood alone.  I was the only person in a huge metropolitan city with a population well over a million who had extensive prior experience at teaching something he knew absolutely nothing about.  What would be the odds?  One in a million. 

Weird coincidences like this help explain why I developed my belief in Fate.

THE YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY
 

Suspicious

Coincidence
Lucky Break

LYNN WYATT, OSCAR DE LA RENTA, BILL BLASS