MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX:

another gamble

Written by Rick Archer 

JANUARY, 1980 ROLLERCOASTER WEEK

Rollercoaster Week was pretty tough on me.  I experienced a series of extreme mood swings. 

 Jennifer's phone call Tuesday.  Down. 

 Glen's voice of doom on Wednesday.  Rock Bottom.  

 Deborah's good news on Wednesday.  60 Class Factory Registrations.   Up.

 Many phone calls on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  Up.

 Deborah's good news on Friday.  100 Class Factory Registrations.   Up.

 Realization on Friday that my success was probably illusory.  Down. 

I spent the weekend going back and forth over the meaning of Deborah's 100 Class Factory registrations.  When compared to the warning from Glen and Lance Stevens that teaching Western was a complete waste of time, how do I resolve the contradiction?  When I speak of the Mystery of the Texas Twostep, this is what I am referring to. 

Despite endless hours of contemplation, I had absolutely no idea what to expect in the near future.  Frustrated after a fruitless weekend of second guessing, I gave up and went to bed Sunday evening full of despair.  Worried that my Monday classes might turn into a fiasco, I tossed and turned Sunday night. 

To my surprise, a new thought came to me when I awoke Monday morning.  My spirits rallied when I thought of Saturday Night Fever.  In January 1978 I was the only teacher in Houston to offer a group Disco class in the month the movie made its debut.  Was I some sort of Nostradamus?   No.  I was just as much in the dark as every other dance teacher in Houston.  My success was based solely on an incredible stroke of dumb luck.  

Disco was on its way out in December 1977.  For example, my sad little Disco line dance class was down to 5 students on the final night.  When Lance Stevens saw how small my class was, he was so disgusted he said he would cancel my January class.  I assumed this was the end of the road.  Every dance teacher in Houston agreed with Stevens.  Assuming that Disco was toast, not one teacher in the city bothered to offer an inexpensive group Disco class in January. 

Saturday Night Fever came out of nowhere.  Unappreciated by Paramount, all the executives cared about was cutting their losses.  As a result, Paramount invested the barest minimum in promotion.  Given a near total lack of advertising, Saturday Night Fever was released with little fanfare.  As a result, Fever caught everyone in Houston by surprise, including me. 

Fortunately, Stevens had been too lazy to cancel the January class.  Stevens had scheduled the January class several months earlier in an adult education program known as Courses a la Carte (CALC).  His negligence opened the door for the luckiest break of my life.

Here is what happened.  Step One, CALC catalogues were mailed to anyone who had ever taken a class from the program.  Several thousand people (including me) received a copy.  Step Two, CALC catalogues were placed all over Houston in spots where people might notice them.  This included drug stores, movie theaters, restaurants, convenience stores, and so on.  Let's say a young man like myself goes to see Saturday Night Fever.  Blown away by how cool the dancing looked, on my way out of the theater I notice a CALC catalogue.  Hmm.  Maybe I should take a dance class.  Maybe there's a dance class listed in that catalogue.  Let's look.  Guess what?  There is a class being offered in January at a place called Stevens of Hollywood. 

Talk about a quirk of Fate.  Stevens of Hollywood was the ONLY STUDIO IN THE CITY WITH AN ADVERTISED DISCO CLASS.  Even better, there was a phone number.  Suddenly the phone began ringing off the hook.  Greeted by 100 students in my January Disco class, I credited the 'Spotlight Effect' created by the fortuitous Courses a la Carte listing for this absurd development. 

The movie was such a surprise, no other studio in the city offered Disco lessons at the start of January.  This meant anyone looking for a class would eventually stumble onto me.  Now we know how I became Houston's first Disco teacher.  Which of course was crazy wrong.  I was a nobody.  I had little dance ability and virtually no experience as a teacher.  Could there possibly be anyone less qualified?  Of course not.  Indeed, Vegas odds of my success gave me a 1% chance.  And yet, thanks to a series of further lucky breaks, I survived to become the best-known Disco teacher in Houston.  Can you think of a weirder story?  Me neither.

In regards to Houston's Western Era, I was shocked to see the same thing happen again.  This time Class Factory was responsible for the 'Spotlight Effect'.  Lucky me, I was the beneficiary.  Given how weird this coincidence was, how could I possibly ignore the Supernatural aspect?  Think about it.  What were the odds?  Astronomical the first time, double astronomical the second time.  As far as I was concerned, I believed the odds of this same weird thing happening twice approached infinity.  

In addition, this incredible 'lightning strikes twice' coincidence was surrounded by all sorts of implausible circumstances. 

 Blindness in regards to Cowboy.
 Meyerland Club. 
 Joanne's availability to teach me. 
 Ides of Waltz. 
 The Conspiracy. 
 Fright Night. 
 Placing an ad in the Class Factory catalogue at the last minute. 
 A repeat of the Spotlight Effect. 
 Rick situated at the Right Place at the Right Time.  

How many coincidences did I need to realize something very spooky was going on?  They say when Fate is involved, anything is possible.  How could the sum total of these unusual circumstances NOT be Fate?  Deborah's 100 registrations were exactly the spark I needed.  I didn't care what Glen said.  I didn't care what Lance Stevens said.  There was hope in Western dancing after all, I was sure of it!!

Convinced that the Universe was in my corner, I felt my confidence return.  Bring it on.

Serious

MONDAY MORNING, JANUARY 07, 1980 ONE AND DONE

Tonight I would teach a Beginner Western class at 7 and an Intermediate class at 8.  I honestly had no idea what to expect.  What I did know was the need for a plan to keep these new students hanging around the way the Disco students once did.

'One and Done' was my term for Disco students who took my two-month Beginner class, but chose not to continue onto the Intermediate level.  The same term would apply to Western.  If Class Factory was sending me 100 students, I imagined my mailing list schedule might generate another 50-100 students.  Even if every one of these 150-200 new Western students was One and Done, as long as there was a huge supply of students, I could still make this work.  Urban Cowboy Western dancing might turn out to be a rapidly passing fad, but the paycheck from January-February alone would pay my house note for several months. 

However, I did not want to settle for One and Done.  I wanted to teach dance for the rest of my life.  The place to start was to create Intermediate and Advanced Western classes just like I once did with Disco.  Right now the chance of finding enough material for an Advanced Western class seemed a long-shot fantasy at best.  I prayed I could at least eke out enough material to create a solid Intermediate Western level.

A dance class was two months long, one hour per week for 8 weeks.   The thought of seeing the majority of my new students wish me farewell at the end of January-February was intolerable.  If I could find enough dance material to create a solid Intermediate Western class, then in March I intended to persuade at least half of these 200 students to take advantage of my second level.  If I could just get half of them to stick around, I would in good shape.  Therefore it was critical to succeed in my January gamble to create an Intermediate Western class.  

I looked at last Fall as 'Spring Training'.  Now it was time for the Baseball Season to begin.  Monday night, January 7, was the official start of my Urban Cowboy Western Era.  I smiled as a stream of students filed in.  Stevens of Hollywood was a zoo.  I had two classes scheduled for tonight.  There was a Beginning Western class at 7 pm and my challenging Intermediate class at 8.

At 7 pm I watched nervously as my brand new Class Factory western students came through the doors.  Riverboat gambler that I was, I mixed 'Rick Archer' students with Class Factory students.  Let's say Class Factory had 20 students lined up for my Monday class that had room for 30, 40 in a pinch.  I would add ten mailing list or word of mouth students to that total.  By integrating Class Factory and Rick Archer students, I maximized my space. 

I had not asked Deborah permission to mix the students.   This was so important to me I dared not risk giving her a reason to object.  Sneaky?  I suppose so.  Dishonest?  No.  I was not taking any money out of her pocket.  Better to act and ask forgiveness.

Last week I had received a lot of calls from potential students generated from my mailing list.  By sprinkling them throughout my five Class Factory sections scheduled to begin this week, I found room for 100 Class Factory students and 50 Rick Archer students.  It was a headache juggling all these new students, but it was worth the trouble. 

In addition, there was a new wrinkle for 1980.  I had hired a woman named Penny to take care of Registration for me.  I was unable to resist calling her 'Miss Moneypenny' after the character in the James Bond movies.  At the moment, Miss Moneypenny was doing brisk business.  I had hired Penny specifically to begin the process of ending Victoria's domination of my business.  Penny had two outstanding qualifications.  She was the perfect registrar due to her day job as a bank teller.  Even better she disliked Victoria. 

Hiring Miss Moneypenny freed me up to socialize with the new students.  Although I had nowhere near the meet and greet charms of Victoria back in her Sunshine days, I saw the importance of welcoming these newcomers as best I could.  By nature I was an introvert, so being surrounded by all these strangers made me nervous.  However, I was no longer a babe in the woods.  I had two years of experience under my belt.  During this time I had made strides.  I told myself to pretend I was an extrovert and fake it is as best I could.  Say hello, hand out name tags, answer questions.  Despite my first-night jitters, I doubt anyone knew how nervous I was.  Just like old times.  Fake it till you Make it.

One of my strongest memories of that first class was seeing my ex-boss Lance Stevens gape in shock at the endless procession of 'Rick Archer' students file past him on their way to the back room.  I had never seen a more perplexed look on his face.  No doubt this endless parade of students had to upset him.  However, I was too busy to dwell on his discomfort.  I had a job to do. 

The room was overcrowded.  However, I discovered if I taught everyone to move in a Circle the same way they danced Western in a club, a Western class took up less space than a Disco class where dance partners moved in random directions.  This helped, but we were still grid-locked.  That is when I had an inspiration.  Why not create two concentric rings?   By creating a smaller 'Inner Circle', everyone had more breathing room.  This spur of the moment idea increased room capacity from 30 Disco students to 40 Western students.  I was quite proud of myself. 

Our two circles of dancers moved at a steady pace just like cars on a freeway.  While the students remained in their circles, I would move to the middle of the circle where everyone could see me.  I would explain something, demonstrate it, then the circle would start moving again.  I was pleased to see this new teaching technique work like a charm. 

I was also gratified to see my new students learn at much slower rate than my Superstar Disco students in last year's trial and error class.  Unlike last November's Conspiracy class, this group consisted of true beginners, so things moved at reduced pace.   Excellent.  The enthusiasm was very high.  These new students loved my class.  It was very satisfying to know that I was finally competent as a Western teacher, at least at the Beginning level.  Thank goodness for Spring Training.

I had prepared a wicked little surprise for my new group.  At the halfway point of class, I told everyone how wounded I was over Jennifer's unexpected departure.  I kept it light, so no one could tell just how much I really hurt inside.  Following my half-hearted grab for sympathy, I told everyone the old joke about playing C&W music backwards... you get your job back, you get your truck back, you get your girlfriend back.  ha ha.  That got a good laugh, but I was just getting warmed up. 

I told everyone that Country-Western was the Land of the Broken Hearted.   Then I introduced my big surprise.  As a way to deal with my tough luck, I was going to conduct 'an Exorcism' that was sure to improve the Love Life of everyone who believed they were unfortunate in finding lasting love.

First I asked for a show of hands of everyone who had ever had their heart broken.  I was greeted with a near-unanimous raise of hands.   Then I pulled out a list of sad songs.  In preparation for this moment, I had visited Don's Record Store before class this afternoon to collect titles to sad western songs. 

Everyone in the room thought I was nuts, but they were good sports and played along.  As I read my list, I told everyone to put their hand over their heart and pat it gently as I went from one song title to the next. 

• I'm Still Not Over You
• Faded Love
• I've just Destroyed My World
• One Promise too Late
• You're Someone I Used to Know
• Last Letter Waltz
• Last Cheater's Waltz
• Wounded Pride
• Too Many Rivers to Cross
• Finding a Way to Survive
• When your House is not a Home
• You got a Lover but it's not me

Then I asked everyone in the room who was currently looking for love to raise their hand.  When half the room including me raised their hand, everyone started laughing.  It was actually pretty funny.  With a grin, a married lady decided to raise her hand too.  When her husband protested, she said the peer pressure was too great and she was just trying to fit in.  This time the class roared. 

Now it was time to dance.  Before I played my favorite Country song, Crystal Gayle's 'Ready for the Times to get Better', I made everyone repeat the chorus me.  We practiced a couple times till they were ready.  I told them to be sure to sing that line out loud or the Exorcism would be unsuccessful.  Then I played the music. 

You seem to want from me what I cannot give
I feel so lonesome at times
I have a dream that I wish I could live
It's burnin' holes in my mind

It's been a too long time
With no peace of mind
And I'm ready for the times to get better

The class loved it so much, they made sure to sing the repeating chorus lyrics while they danced.  This was just too silly not to be fun.  After things calmed down, I named us the 'Unlucky in Love' dance class.  We made a vow to dance the memory away of our past unhappy loves. 

What was point of this nonsense?  Last year Victoria had taught me that I was in the 'Boy meets Girl' business.  Victoria was sheer magic with her emphasis on the 'Slow Dance leads to Romance' angle.  Judging by the way the singles in the room were eyeing each other, they fully intended to follow my advice.  Now that the singles had more or less identified their status, there was added interest in meeting each other. 

Little did I know this was a precursor of amazing things to come. 

THE INTERMEDIATE WESTERN CLASS

My Beginner Western class had gone very well.  Now for the serious challenge.  As it stood, the clockwise Circle Turn was the only new move I had.  After that, I had nothing.  I felt like Columbus on his first voyage.  What perils await me?

The counter-clockwise Reverse Circle Turn was the only other move I could think of.  Unfortunately, I couldn't do the Reverse Circle Turn to save my soul.  Glen had tried to help me, but that move had been a puzzle for him too.  He promised to try again next Tuesday, but this was not a move I could count on. 

I would need at least ten moves to complete my class.  However, I only had one pattern in the piggy bank with no idea where to find more.   What should I do?  I was the master of staying one move ahead of my class, but where was I going to find nine more new moves?  

My decision hinged on one vital question... was there any further material out there?  Based on my three trips to Cowboy trip in December, the answer was a resounding no.  Glen had no suggestions either.  I was staring at an empty well.  Maybe I should just cancel the Monday class.  I could refuse to take money, tell them the truth and teach the Circle Turn for free as a good will gesture.   Given that the landscape for new Western patterns seemed so bleak, cancellation seemed the safest solution.

However, I did not want to cancel that class! 

I had too much incentive to create an Intermediate Western class.  This was the critical next step for making a successful transition to becoming a Western teacher.  But with no new patterns to teach, I was really going out on a limb.  Memories of nearly being caught at Fright Night returned to terrify me.  I had sacrificed at least eight of my nine cat lives in the process of surviving Fright Night, probably all nine.  It was frightening to commit to an eight-hour class when I had at best one hour of material and no new prospects.

Consequently that familiar aching nausea of fear returned.  I had told myself I would never again the awful feeling of dread I had on Fright Night.  Sure I had been lucky many times before, but not all gambles succeed.  Just look at Napoleon.  He was undefeated until Russia came along.  Napoleon had bitten off more than he could chew.  Would teaching Intermediate Western be my Road to Moscow?

I sighed.  What should I do?  I wanted to cancel the class.  Someday one of these wild gambles was certain to backfire.  However I had not gotten this far by playing it safe.  This was a time for taking chances.  Why not be aggressive again, aggressive in the same way I had once been with Disco?   The thought of how my Disco gambles had paid off time and again emboldened me.  Oh, what the heck, of course I should teach this class!

I would be taking yet another big chance, but it was the only sensible play.  I was sick and tired of being fearful all the time.  Maybe this would be the mistake that finished me off, but better to go down fighting.   If Western was an empty well, so be it, but I wasn't going to hide from the problem this time.  On the spot, I made the decision to go all in.  I had enough material for ONE NIGHT of Intermediate Western.  Afterwards, come hell or high water, I was going dancing after class.  If I found something useful at Cowboy, I could use it to extend my career at least one more week.  If I didn't find anything, I would bluff my way through a second week and keep on looking.  If I still didn't find anything, then the game was over.  End of the line.  They could lynch me then.

And so I nodded to Miss Moneypenny.  Go ahead and collect money.  Sure enough, Jerry was first in line.  Jerry had requested this class back in early December and he was good for his word.   Jerry wasted no time putting me on the spot.  With a faint smile, he looked at me and asked, "Are you prepared for this class?" 

This was a gentle reference to my tendency to bluff my way through class whenever I was unsure of myself.  I lied and said I was ready, but paled nonetheless.  I took Jerry's comment to mean that everyone knew I had been up to no good with last November's Conspiracy class.  His comment increased my anxiety because bluffing was exactly what I planned to do if necessary.

The attendance was excellent... 25 students.  To my chagrin, there was no Sally.  Oh well, probably for the better. 

December's Die Hard class had finished with 16 students.  Considering this class was supposed to be a secret, where did these 9 new students come from?  The 7 pm class.  They figured after taking an hour of my 7 pm class, that qualified them to switch to the Intermediate level.  What a headache.  Although they thought they were being clever, it turned out most of them had no business skipping a level.  They barely knew what they were doing and slowed the class down considerably.  I was forced to explain things to them they should have already known.  Sure enough, I could see the veterans in the class were quite irritated.  This was a replay of the Sally-Susan situation back in November.  However, this time it wasn't just two people, it was much worse.  Since 9 of the 25 students were new, I had no choice but to slow down the class.  Seeing the frustration on the faces of the veterans, I made a snap decision.  In the middle of the hour, I stopped the class.  I announced it was not fair to the experienced dancers to slow the class down.  I said tonight I would take it easy on the newcomers, but next week's class would move at a much swifter pace.  Then I said tonight's class was a 'Try-out', adding that I reserved the right to move some students to the earlier 7 pm Beginner slot if they could not keep up.  I completed my warning by saying the newcomers needed to check with me at the end of class to receive permission to continue.  No one said a word, but they all got the message. 

I saw my veterans nod their approval.  This impromptu solution softened their irritation considerably.  And it worked.  At the end of class, four students voluntarily said they would return to the 7 pm class next week.  What about the other five?  I asked two students to move to next week's 7 pm class.  They took their demotion in stride because they knew they were struggling.  The other three picked things up quickly, so I said they could stay.  Lo and behold, I was learning politics.  I had never done this before, so I was proud of myself.  This was yet another sign of my growing maturity as an instructor. 

Jerry had stuck around to watch.  When I finished, he smiled.  "I see you have learned not to let the tail wag the dog."

I furrowed my brow.  "What does that mean?  I've never heard that expression before."

"That's another way of saying 'dance with the one who brung you'.  It means you should concentrate on making the people happy who got you there in the first place.  By the way, when can I expect you to introduce the promised Circle Turn?"

Leave it to Jerry to notice.  "Don't worry.  Next week I will get to the new moves.  I am sorry those new people slowed us down tonight."

Jerry stared at me looking for a hint of insincerity, but I kept a poker face.  I could tell Jerry was deeply suspicious that I had reverted to my evil ways again, so he figured I was glad for tonight's reprieve.  Finally he replied sarcastically, "Yeah, what a shame."  Then he added, "Are you going to Cowboy tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world.  See you over there."

Jerry hesitated.  He stared at me for a moment, then gave me a quizzical smile.  "You're quite the gambler, aren't you?"

I smiled back.  "You have no idea."

Jerry nodded.  Jerry was no fool.  He knew exactly what I was up to.  I better come through or I was in trouble.

MY FOURTH VISIT TO COWBOY

As I walked through the doors at Cowboy, I recalled the terror I felt on Fright Night last November.  Tonight I was anxious as well, but for a different reason.  Last time I feared exposure.   This time I feared finding nothing to prolong my fledging Western career.  I wasn't leaving tonight until I discovered something I could use to keep Jerry and the other Intermediate students satisfied.  If I didn't find anything tonight, then I would come back tomorrow night.  And the night after that, etc.  Now that my ambition had returned, I refused to give up without a fight.

Easier said than done.  An hour passed at Cowboy and I wasn't getting anywhere.  I was feeling very frustrated.  I watched from the railing and that didn't work.  I danced with a couple ladies from class and that didn't work either.  It did not help that Jerry was always watching me.  I smiled grimly.  Jerry wasn't cutting me any slack.  He wanted to see me display some of those new moves I had promised.  Considering he had not seen squat, his deep frown and crossed arms said it all.  The pressure was not as bad as Fright Night, but I definitely felt uncomfortable.  Thank goodness Lynette was preoccupied with a cute cowboy or things would have been even worse.

Now it was back to the railing again.  At that point, a woman named Melanie came up to say hello.  I recognized her immediately; Melanie was a former Disco student.  Cute girl.  I had danced with her at Camelot on several occasions. Now that Jennifer and Sally were ancient history, maybe it was time to start looking around in case Victoria ever set me free.  On the spot, I asked Melanie to dance a Polka with me. 

Tonight was my fourth visit to Cowboy.  My dancing was better than average, but I was not yet quite as smooth as the experienced regulars who danced on a nightly basis.  I suppose with practice, I would catch up soon enough.  For the present, I kept the beat and did not step on any toes.  In most women's book, that was a good place to start.  Even better, I did not make Melanie dance backwards the entire song.  She seemed to enjoy dancing with me.  Unfortunately, the floor was ridiculously crowded.  Since a lot of people had no idea what they were doing, Melanie and I were jostled repeatedly.  I could tell Melanie was uncomfortable, so I looked for a way to protect her.  Trying to improvise, I developed an odd move where Melanie and I danced sideways to the line of dance.  How do I explain this?  The railing served as the outer perimeter.  The railing protected Melanie from the crowd on one side, so I figured out a way to use my body as a shield her from the sea of dancers on the floor.  I would pass Melanie, she would pass me, then I would repeat the process.  This new move did the trick.  Melanie remained untouched.  I liked the pattern for two reasons.  For one thing, it meant Melanie only had to dance backwards half the time.  Even better, by dancing sideways, I could keep Melanie safe between my body and the railing. 

Melanie noticed what I was doing and smiled.  "That is an interesting move.  I like how you guard me from getting bumped."

Thanks to her compliment, I paid better attention to what I was doing.  The footwork seemed familiar.  That is when it occurred to me I was doing the Polka version of a Foxtrot move Glen had taught me called the 'Zigzag'.  A huge tingling sensation came over me. 

I did not know the Zigzag could be danced to Polka! 

Hmm.  Where did this move come from?  Somehow my feet had discovered this pattern on their own.  That is when I had a major flash.  What if Glen's other Foxtrot moves... Parallel, Conversation, Crossover, Sweetheart, Promenade... could be transferred to Polka as well??

As I thought about it, it occurred to me I already knew how to do a Circle Turn to both Twostep and Polka timing.  All I had to do was make a simple adjustment to my footwork.  If the Circle Turn worked to both Polka and Twostep, then it stood to reason that ALL of my Twostep patterns could be converted to Polka with minor footwork adjustments.  Duh!!  Why had it taken me over four months to figure that out?  I knew the answer to that.  I had refused to go dancing with Joanne.  'Practice makes perfect' does not work without practice.

Oh well, better late than never.  I could barely contain my curiosity.  I asked Melanie if she would mind letting me experiment a little.  Melanie smiled and said sure, go ahead.  We left the dance floor to find space for my test.  Dancing over in a corner, I stumbled around trying to convert the Foxtrot Conversation step to Polka.  It took me a good ten minutes, but I eventually found some footwork that seemed to click to Polka as well.  Then I tried the same thing with Promenade.  Yup, seemed to work.

I was elated!  Just like that... poof!... I had developed four new moves: Polka Zigzag, Polka Conversation, Polka Promenade, Polka Parallel.  Just to be sure, I made a mental note to run it past Glen tomorrow morning.  However, I wasn't worried.  I was pretty sure these moves would pan out.  Each one of these moves could be used to fill the gaps in my Intermediate Western class.  What a relief!  This was a wonderful breakthrough.  My Intermediate Western class gamble had just paid off.  To me, tonight's discovery was as good as any gold mine.  I had just bought myself at least four more classes, maybe five.  With a little imagination, I'm sure I could find something else to complete the eight weeks.  What a treat to get this pressure off my back. 

"Melanie, can I buy you a beer?  You just did me a huge favor."

Melanie nodded assent, so we moved to the bar.  While we stood there waiting for service, I gave my discovery some serious thought.  I wondered if these were 'legitimate' Polka moves.  That was my ancient fear.  I always worried that the Ballroom Foxtrot and the German Polka moves Glen taught me were not moves used by the regular Western dancers.  Back in November/December when I was flying blind, I was terrified every time I introduced a new step.  What would I do if I was challenged on the authenticity of these new Polka patterns?

Well, the first thing to do was try these new polka moves out ahead of time, a test run so to speak.  Joanne was long gone, Lynette was preoccupied, but Melanie was standing right next to me.  Why wait for tomorrow and Glen?  Why not try these moves out tonight?  No more procrastination! 

"Hey, Melanie, do you mind if I practice these moves again?  I am trying to come up with new ideas for my class."

Melanie smiled, so now we were back out on the dance floor.  I was awkward, of course, but eventually my four new Polka moves began to click.  I was almost feeling proud of myself, but just then Melanie laughed.  Worried, I asked what was wrong. 

"These moves you are trying are very different from what I am used to."

I paled.  That was exactly what I was worried about.  There must be something wrong.  Due to the importance of what she had just said, I stopped dancing and pulled her to the side.  "What do you mean, Melanie?  Are you saying you've never seen these moves before or do you dislike them?"

"I guess they're okay.  Yeah, now that I think about it, you lead some weird moves, but I do like them.  You make some twist and turns I've never seen before.  You are more unpredictable than the other guys."

"Is that good or bad?"

When Melanie hesitated, my anxiety returned.

"Once you perfect what you are doing, definitely good."

Ah, much better.  "I see your point.  Like I said, I am experimenting.  These are some new patterns and I was not sure how you would react."

"I wouldn't worry.  Your new patterns make dancing with you more of a challenge."

"'Good challenge' or 'bad challenge'?"

"Definitely a good thing.  I actually have to pay attention when I dance with you.  Best of all, you don't make go backwards all the time."

Wow!  I was so relieved to hear Melanie say that.  I half-expected her to ridicule the moves, but instead she liked them.  This was exactly what I needed to hear... something new, something different, something fun.  All in all, an improvement.  I was fascinated that Melanie had said she had never seen those moves before.  That was the moment new path opened in my mind.  I did not have to rely on someone else to show me a new move.  It would easier just to make them up myself.

freedom at last

Just when I was preparing to offer to walk Melanie to her car, I saw Lynette walk off the floor.  I had been meaning to check in with her all night, so I hastily thanked Melanie for her help, then excused myself.  Not wishing to appear rude, I waited till Melanie was out of sight, then went over to ask Lynette to dance. 

Lynette gave me a dirty look.  "You had all night to ask me to dance, so now I am supposed to feel grateful to finally be noticed?"

I had not expected that response.  Then I realized she was teasing.  "Come on, Lynette, this the first time all night that you've been free at the same time I am free.  Besides, I wanted to save the best for last."

Lynette grinned.  "Smooth.  I see Santa brought you some charm for Christmas."  Then she stuck out her hand.  "Okay, let's dance."

The song was not fast, so we chatted as we danced the Twostep.  I asked Lynette what she thought of tonight's class.

"I did not like having all those beginners join our class.  But I thought you handled the problem better than you did back in November with those older women."

"Let's just say I learned my lesson the hard way."

Lynette smiled.  "Is there any other way to learn a lesson?"

"Maybe, but not in my case."  I paused a moment, then asked a question.  "So why are you the last pretty girl in the club?"

Lynette rolled her eyes.  "Oh, my boyfriend Mark left town this morning.  I am busy dancing to cheer me up."

Suddenly curious, I said, "You make it sound like he's gone for good."

"No, but he will be gone for three weeks."

"Is he a traveling salesman?"

"Mark works on an oil rig out in the Gulf of Mexico.  After three weeks at sea, he gets to spend two weeks in Houston before shipping out again."

Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Is that tough on a relationship?"

Lynette nodded.  "Very.  It's like we have to start all over again every three weeks.  The moment we get close, he's gone.  This off-on stuff is making me crazy."

Just then the song ended.  Lynette thanked me for the dance, then said it was time to head out.  To be polite, I walked her to the car.

"Thanks for the dance, Lynette."

Lynette smiled.  "You're welcome.  Thank you for walking me to my car."  And with that, she left.

As I drove home, a line from Billy Joel's 'Piano Man' popped into my mind. 

"Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone."

Substitute the word 'dance' for 'drink' and those lyrics described Lynette and me.  That reminded me of Jennifer, my lost cause.  I had been heartbroken when Jennifer called to break the bad news.  However, considering she had spent the Christmas Holidays in Dallas, I had anticipated this might happen.  Consequently, I had steeled myself during the lonely days of December.  Now that a week had passed, I realized my heart was not quite as damaged as I first feared.  And how did I know this?   As I walked Lynette to her car, for the first time the thought of asking out her had crossed my mind.  Hmm.  Thinking of Lynette made me smile.

Jennifer was not coming back, so I had every right to ask Lynette out.  But what about Victoria?  She had not yet returned from her Holiday trip.  I would see her tomorrow night.  Trust me, I was not looking forward to it.

Without question, letting Victoria through my door had been the worst mistake of my life.  Afterwards Victoria had threatened to write a poison pen letter to my students if I dared to see Jennifer again.  Deeply ashamed of myself for yielding to Victoria's will, over the past three months I considered my involuntary 'Captivity' to be fair punishment for my terrible lapse of judgment.  Now, however, the spinning Wheel of Fortune had liberated me.   The whole point of her threat was to give my students a reason to quit taking lessons.  Ironically, that happened anyway.  Thanks to the Death of Disco, there was no one left who even knew who Victoria was.  With a grim smile, I thought what Clint Eastwood might say.  "Go ahead, make my day. Write that letter."

Oddly enough, I had been in this situation once before with Victoria.  Prior to leaving town for a July 4th visit to see her parents, Victoria said she expected to be separated from her husband when she returned.  I took that as a strong hint that she was serious about developing a committed relationship.  By coincidence, my girlfriend Patricia broke up with me four days later.  I had an entire week to look for a new girlfriend before Victoria returned.  However, I hesitated due to Victoria's mysterious romantic invitation.  What a mistake.  Six months later I was still suffering from the consequences of a very bad decision.

Well, that was not going to happen again.  When Victoria returned, I intended to tell her this boyfriend-girlfriend charade was over.

Freedom at Last.