MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE:

1980 BEGINS

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH FOUR TUESDAY MORNING, JANUARY 01, 1980 THE PHONE RINGS ON NEW YEAR'S DAY

Fighting a serious depression, I took Emily and Sissy for another long walk on New Year's Day.  I had been taking a lot of long walks lately.  Considering I lived alone and had not spoken to anyone in days, I had become the Solitary Man.  As I entered the house, I was so lost in thought I jumped out of my skin when my private phone rang.  Who could it be? 

I was stunned to realize it was Jennifer.   "Where are you calling from?"

"Dallas," she replied. 

 Uh oh.  I did not like the sound of her voice.  Sure enough, Jennifer got right to the point.

"As you know, I spent the Christmas Holidays with Jeff.  I am sorry to tell you, but we have decided to renew our commitment to each other.  In addition, I will be moving to Dallas very soon.  I have decided the only way my renewed commitment can succeed is to move closer to Jeff.  In fact, I already have a new job lined up.  Back in December, I interviewed for this position and was accepted.  I will turn in my resignation on Wednesday and leave Houston as soon as I get permission to go."

I said nothing.  How could I?  Incredulous at this sudden turn, I stopped breathing.  This explained why Jennifer had been so distant last month.  She had been planning to leave town, but didn't bother to tell me.  What a kick in the gut!!  Jennifer was leaving Houston. 

Blindsided, I went into shock.  This possibility had never crossed my mind.  Yes, I knew Jeff had been running ahead of me in the Jennifer Sweepstakes, but I always assumed I held the home field advantage.  Since Jennifer was here and Jeff was there, I always believed time was on my side.  Once the Holidays were over, I had planned to court Jennifer further and eventually regain her trust.  Now my dream was gone.  Once Jennifer left town, there was no hope left.  This was it.  Game over.

Sensing I was too surprised to speak, Jennifer resumed.

"You deserve to know the truth.  The real reason I am moving is to cure this constant heartache that will not go away.  It is just too painful letting Victoria have you when deep in my heart I feel like you belong to me."

Her words cut like a knife.  Did Jennifer have a hearing problem?  What was wrong with this woman??  How many times had I told Jennifer she could have me if she wanted me?  Right now I wanted to scream at her.  "Show some guts, Jennifer, stand by my side!!"

However, before I could respond, Jennifer read my mind. 

"Rick, before you say anything, there is something very painful that you need to know.  I have always believed you when you said you would fight for me.  However, I also believe that any fight would be messy and spiteful.  You could easily lose your studio in the process.  If that happened, I would always blame myself.  You would try to forgive me, but I don't know if that wound would ever heal.  Your dance career is what you live for.  It is your all-consuming passion."

Jennifer began crying.  She stopped to blow her nose, then continued.

"There's more.  I hate myself every day because I am too afraid to take a risk.  I am an accountant.  With Victoria in the picture, I estimate the odds at less than 20% that our relationship would work and that you would also be able keep your program intact.  You can have me or you can have your dance career, but you cannot have us both.  You may not agree, but that is how I see it. 

On the other hand, Jeff is a kind, dependable, salt of the earth guy who wants to marry me and raise kids.  Jeff might be kind of boring, but then maybe so am I.  I peg the chances of this relationship working at 80%. 

I could stay in Houston and fight for you or I can run home and try to forget my heartache.  I have decided it is safer to go for the sure thing.  I realize I am voting with my head, not my heart.  You hurt me worse than I have ever been hurt in my life and I am scared to death of letting that happen again.  If I let my heart tell me what to do, I would be in your arms right now.  But that's not who I am.  I am a practical girl and I do not like taking chances, especially in situations where I have so little control over what happens next."

I was too stunned for words.  I had just lost out to statistical analysis.  Maybe Jennifer was trying to spare my feelings, but she gave me the impression she had about as much enthusiasm for this Jeff guy as she might carry for a favorite pair of old shoes.  Jennifer's voice sounded so final, I did not have the heart to put up much of a fight. 

"I wish you wouldn't go, Jennifer.  Please give me another chance.  Let's get together and talk this over.  I believe we have a much better chance than you realize."

I was about to tell Jennifer about the long Kramer versus Kramer talk I had with Victoria right before Christmas, but it was too late.  Before I could say another word, Jennifer whispered goodbye and softly hung up the phone. 

I hung up the phone in shock.  Chalk up another victory for Victoria.  This was the third girlfriend Victoria had run off.  Joanne, Patricia, now Jennifer.  In fact, this might be Victoria's most impressive hatchet job yet.  Victoria never even knew Jennifer's name.  She had defeated Madame X based strictly on her horrible reputation. 

THE EPIC LOSING STREAK

Overcome with grief, I sat there with an ocean of tears streaming down my face.  I had assumed starting the New Year as lonely as possible would guarantee I had nowhere to go but up.  I was wrong.  Jennifer's call sent me plummeting to startling new depths.  Her move to Dallas hurt like hell.  Realistic enough to know the odds were against me, I had guarded myself against the possibility Jennifer might not come back.  However I had always believed I would get a second chance.  In particular, when I suggested the ski trip in December, I could have sworn Jennifer was interested.  If she had followed her heart, she would have said yes.  Unfortunately, given a long night to think about it, Jennifer's self-discipline kicked in and decided it was futile.  I suppose if I had a job and apartment lined up in Dallas, I probably would have said no too.  Or did she have an apartment lined up?  More likely they would live together.  Oh hell, what difference did it make?  Either way, Jennifer was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. 

Unprepared for this bad break, I took Jennifer's loss very hard.  I staggered to the kitchen to get some coffee.  Then I sat down at the table.  Staring numbly out the window, I began the unavoidable stages of grief.  Just then the strangest thought hit me.  Exactly one year ago to the day, on New Year's Day 1979 Patricia had sat me down in her kitchen to announce her decision to fly to Los Angeles.  Patricia wanted to see if she could rekindle her romance with her old boyfriend George.  Now one year later history had repeated itself.  As Coincidences go, this strange twist was quite a knockout punch.  If I didn't have bad luck with women, I wouldn't have any luck at all. 

Barely able to function, I thought about my Epic Losing Streak.  As things stood, at age 30 I had only two girlfriends in my life who lasted past a month.  One was Patricia, but she didn't count.  Patricia had cheated on me three times that I knew of and there were probably others.  Besides, I only kept her around as a way to keep Victoria at bay.  The other was Arlene, a sweet girl I dated after college.  So there you have it, one decent relationship in 16 years.  Among history's great Epics are the Iliad and the Odyssey.  After 10 years of battle, Greek hero Odysseus ended the war with his Trojan Horse.  After the sack of Troy, Odysseus encountered one setback after another on his voyage home.  It took Odysseus 10 more years to get home to his wife.  In all, Odysseus had been gone from his wife for 20 years.  Considering I was up to 16 years, unless my luck turned, I was closing in on one of the great ordeals of all time.

As far as I was concerned, 16 years more than justified the "Epic" description.  Let's face it, when it came to women, I was Epically Cursed.  In my previous books I have spelled out the underlying reasons for my incompetence as well as all the sad stories in great detail.  For sake of brevity, I will keep it short.  Due to a horrible case of teenage acne, age 14, I was so ugly for two years that I lacked any kind of courage around high school girls.  Once my face cleared up, the pimples were replaced by deep facial scars.  In addition to my disfigurement, I was the poorest as well as the most socially inexperienced boy at a rich kid's school.  Considering the hole I was in, I decided it would be easier to postpone dating till college.  Four years and counting.  I paid a heavy price for staying on the sidelines in high school.  When I reached college, I was little better than a high school Freshman trying to date college girls.  Making every mistake in the book, I was routinely rejected.  The end came when a pretty girl named Emily broke my heart.  I shut down for the remainder of college.  Eight years and counting.  Then came Vanessa in graduate school, the most evil woman I ever met.  Unable to deal with her betrayal, my Epic Losing Streak reached ten years and counting. 

On the long drive home from Colorado to Houston, I had a lot of time to think about my continual failure with women.  Given my strong curiosity about Fate, this was the first time I gave serious thought that perhaps my problems with women transcended Realistic explanations.  I understood that my late start was largely responsible for my lack of skill around women, but seriously, 10 years?  Shouldn't I have caught up by now? 

Following my dismissal from graduate school, I hit Rock Bottom.  I was no stranger to Rock Bottom.  I had been there many times before.  However, my latest visit was the worst so far.  I was a failure in my expected career as a therapist and a colossal failure with women. 

Now that I was back in Houston, my confidence around women hovered at zero.  Maybe there was a book that would give me advice on how to overcome my fear of rejection around pretty girls.  Visiting a bookstore, I found what I needed.  The Mistress Book said the fastest polite way to get a woman in a man's arms is ask her to dance.  That idea appealed to me, so I began dance lessons.  The dance suggestion was sound advice, but there were two drawbacks.  First of all, I was a slow learner.  Second, although dancing proved to a good ice breaker, all it did was get me to First Base.  Once I got to First Base, I stayed there.  Given my mediocre social skills thanks to my glaring lack of experience, I continued to get shot down over the next four years.  Yes, four years.  Vanessa had inflicted wounds so deep that it took me four years to regain any sort of confidence around women.  14 years and counting. 

Guess who was waiting for me after 14 years of futility?  Patricia and Victoria.  The twin Divas of Discord proceeded to extend my Losing Streak two more years.  It was now 1980.  Thanks to Victoria's constant interference, Jennifer had just plunged another knife into my heart.  With my Epic Losing Streak standing at 16 years, where do I go from here? 

At this point, my old friend Friedrich Nietzsche dropped by for a pep talk.  "That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  Hmm.  Last time I checked, Nietzsche died of syphilis.  Sounds like Friedrich had an Epic Losing Streak of his own, so why am I listening to him? 

But you know what?  The Mistress Book suggestion to use dance to overcome my overwhelming shyness had ultimately worked wonders.  Learning to Dance had definitely made it easier to approach pretty girls.  Not only that, some say a surefire mark of progress is when it takes longer than usual to fail.  Although I continued to fail with women in 1978 and 1979, the women I failed with were spectacular.  Could I call my setbacks 'moral victories'?  For example, when a sports team that is a heavy underdog loses narrowly to a superior opponent, they receive praise for acquitting themselves well in defeat.  It was true, I was getting better at this.  Say what you will about the character flaws of Patricia, Victoria and Jennifer, all three were serious babes who belonged in the Major Leagues.  Although it had taken 16 years, a bit longer than the average guy [no kidding], I had ALMOST caught up to girls my own age.  Sure, I had a few things left to learn, but I believed I could hold my own with the best, brightest and most beautiful from here on out.  Although I was sad that Jennifer had not worked out, I was confident I would find someone to take her place.  As things stood, my dance skills were so strong I knew I would never lack for female company for the rest of my life.  Thank you, Mistress Book.

However, not so fast.  I still had one very strange obstacle to overcome.  While it was true that over the past two years I had dated a series of beautiful women... Jenny, Marilyn, Karen, Francesca, Nancy, Patricia, Victoria, Joanne, Jennifer... the strange thing is that something ALWAYS went wrong.  Let me add that the fatal blow was usually something out of my control.  For that reason, I had to ask the question again.  Was there some kind of Curse hanging over me?  I consoled myself with the knowledge that I handled myself well even though I ended up losing.  Clearly I was improving.  But here again, why did something always go wrong?

I began to think about the Myth of Sisyphus, a sad tale in Greek Mythology about some poor fool who could never get ahead no matter how hard he tried.  Sisyphus was a deceitful man.  He was condemned by the Gods to spend eternity pushing a giant rock up a steep hill.  Whenever Sisyphus neared the top, he would lose his strength at the last moment.  Sisyphus would scream in frustration as the giant boulder rolled back down to the valley.  The Curse required Sisyphus to return to the valley and start the process over again knowing full well it was useless to even try. 

Was I doomed to a similar fate? 

The Myth of Sisyphus symbolizes the futility of striving.  As I sat in my kitchen contemplating my past, there very well might be a Curse hanging over me.  There had to be.  No man could possibly have a worse string of Bad Luck than me.  What did I ever do to deserve so much crushing humiliation?  Feeling desperate, I asked a hard question.  How exactly does a man fight a Curse?