A Difficult Lesson

Maggie Has a Suggestion

It was now April 1975.  Maggie and I had been dating on and off for a month.  We weren't serious, but we had fun when we were together.

One afternoon Maggie called me up.  Maggie had noticed an advertisement in the morning paper.  The ad said the two of us could take 4 half-hour Introductory Ballroom lessons for $5 a person.  Maggie wanted me to take these Ballroom dance lessons with her at a franchise Ballroom studio over in the River Oaks shopping area.

Maggie knew I had been taking Disco lessons to learn how to "Freestyle".  In fact, she still talked about our first date.  I had been taking dance lessons for 8 straight months.  I had finally gotten enough confidence to ask her to go dancing with me.  Fortunately, my invitation had paid off.  Maggie said I was a great freestyle dancer.  As she put it, I was the only man she had ever met who had shown a serious interest in dancing.

I expressed hesitation about the Ballroom class.  All I knew were some freestyle moves and a bunch of Disco line dances. I had never 'partner danced' in my life.  As I listened to her pitch, I had serious misgivings.  Maggie said nonsense.  I was a great dancer!  Certainly my Disco skills could be transferred over to Ballroom dancing.

I wasn't so sure about that. I had never confessed how hard it had been to acquire those Freestyle moves.  Besides, Ballroom dancing didn't interest me at all.  I loved Disco music, but the only Ballroom music I had ever heard was pure schmaltz.  However Maggie was right about my interest in dancing.  The Paperback Book had been clear:

In certain situations there is no easier way of meeting a girl than asking her to dance.  There is no faster way known to man to get a strange woman into your arms than dance.

Maggie sensed my indecision, so she turned up the charm.  I resisted for a while, but I finally gave in.  I agreed it was time to broaden my horizons.

The First Lesson

Our first half-hour lesson consisted of one move to 3 different dances - Foxtrot, Tango, Waltz, and Cha Cha.  The ad said 4 dances, but the receptionist who took our $10 explained we skipped one dance each week.  Since the lesson ran 30 minutes, this would allow us to concentrate on each dance for ten whole minutes.  I wondered to myself how much I could learn in ten minutes.  

We were introduced to Henry, our instructor.  He was cool towards me from the start. 

I never quite figured Henry out.  At first I thought he was gay, especially when he took one look at my blue jeans and sniffed with disapproval.  I had gotten the same reaction from the gay dance instructors at my first studio.  Obviously I needed a style upgrade. Teaching dance has always been a profession gay men have been drawn to.  I smiled grimly at the awkward memory of how I had been propositioned by my first dance teacher eight months ago.

However, as the lesson progressed I noticed Henry showed interest in Maggie that clearly went beyond the expected instructor-student relationship.  He was not gay.  Not by a long shot.  Judging from the look on Henry's face, I idly wondered if every dance teacher hit on their students.  Oh well, look on the bright side.  At least I wouldn't get propositioned by this teacher. 

I got that right.  As the lesson progressed, Henry was not the slightest bit interested in me.  In fact, I think he disliked me although I couldn't imagine why.  The two of us barely spoke.  I assumed the reason was my obvious inability to respond to his teaching.  The moment Henry took one look at me dancing with Maggie, he realized I possessed little natural affinity for this style of dancing.

One reason for his disdain might have been his poorly concealed interest in Maggie.  Henry and I were the same age.  Perhaps he saw me as a rival.  Why help a rival?    

Using a popular expression of the day, there were definitely vibes here.  If anything, Maggie may have even started it.  She had been flirting with Henry from the moment she met him.  Was Maggie trying to get Henry interested in her?  If so, judging by his drool, she had succeeded. There were definite sparks.  But why conduct the mating dance right in front of me?  Wasn't there a more discrete way to handle this?  Why was Maggie acting like this?  Her behavior baffled me.

I danced very little in our first lesson.  We started with Tango.  I won't deny it, I struggled mightily with this strange dance.  After Henry showed us what to do, he put some music on and let Maggie and I try the Tango.  We danced for about a minute and Henry took the needle of the record.  I was grateful he ended the song early.  It was actually an act of mercy.

My dancing was so bad I got the feeling he gave up on me on the spot.  Henry's expression was something close to pity.  Or was it contempt?  There is an expression known as "getting off on the wrong foot" that described our interaction precisely. 

That was the last time I danced to music that evening.  The rest of the first lesson consisted of Henry telling me to watch as he took Maggie in his arms and swept her away.  Maggie enjoyed herself thoroughly.   She seemed to glide effortlessly across the floor in his arms while I watched in consternation.  How did Maggie learn those moves so fast?  I was baffled at her progress.

I could not wait for this lesson to end.  It was the longest 30 minutes I could remember.

The receptionist definitely had her math right.  In 30 minutes, we did exactly 10 minutes of Foxtrot, 10 minutes of Cha-Cha, and 10 minutes of Tango.  How much do you suppose I learned?  The only time I was actually allowed to try, I didn't understand the rhythm, I had no idea how to lead, and the footwork was a complete mystery.  In addition to Henry's rudeness, I also disliked the music. 

Maggie made light of my struggles, but I felt very ill at ease with her thanks to her confusing behavior.  Truth be told I didn't even want to touch her.  Henry's perpetual frown at my awkwardness didn't help either.  This lesson was no fun at all. 

It didn't help that I was losing my girlfriend right in front of my nose.  Considering my last girlfriend had two-timed me, this was a real sore spot.  Henry was no more attractive or witty than I was, but here on the dance floor he was Apollo to my Quasimodo.  I was clearly at a disadvantage and resented my handicap bitterly.  When it came to dancing, I always felt inadequate, but I could not remember when I had felt more insecure about my attractiveness.

I could tell as far as Henry was concerned, I had ceased to exist.  From that point on, Henry had put all his energy into hustling Maggie right in front of me.  Maggie responded in kind.  She thought Henry was wonderful.   Maggie was all laughter and lightness. 

I bristled inside.  A lethal combination of jealousy and irritation at Henry's lack of respect had a lot to do with my bad attitude. No matter how poor my dancing was, there was no reason to hit on my girlfriend and be rude to me.  Just because I couldn't dance was no reason to humiliate me.  However, I felt too lousy to make an issue out of it.  As I grew more sullen, I retreated into my shell. 

My shell was a constant companion.  In those days, I always had a chip on my shoulder.  My problems in Graduate School and with the ill-fated love affair were still vivid reminders of my inadequacy.  Now Henry's disdain only served to make me more tense.  What an awful night.

As we left the building, Maggie could tell I was upset.  She begged me to try again. I was dismayed at how hopeless I was and didn't want to continue.  Nevertheless, I promised Maggie I would return for our second lesson.  I had given my word.

Plus I am not a quitter by nature. 

The Second Lesson

I spent the next week analyzing Maggie's behavior. She and I had been drifting apart before these lessons had begun.  Was she genuinely interested in that guy or simply trying to make me jealous to fan the flames?  If Maggie was trying to make me jealous, she had succeeded.

But if Maggie thought I would regain interest, she was mistaken.  Last week's shenanigans had irritated me to the point where I didn't even want to date Maggie any more.  Considering my constant fear of betrayal, Maggie was now damaged goods.

I had mostly shown up for the second lesson out of obligation.  I showed up for another reason as well.  During the week, I nursed a secret hope that I could overcome my jitters and figure this Ballroom stuff out.  Deep down, I wanted to learn to dance. 

Maggie and I came in separate cars.  When I arrived, I was surprised to find Henry and Maggie were already out on the floor dancing together.  I was so ignorant, I didn't even know what dance they were doing.  Whatever it was, it was working.  Maggie was twirling around the floor like she had been dancing all her life.  She was having the time of her life.  I felt a deep pang of envy.  Maggie was really good at this!  How did she ever get so far ahead of me?

Trying to be polite, I had arrived a little early so that Maggie wouldn't have to wait for me.  That had to mean Maggie had come in very early.  Hmm.  Warning signals popped up.

There was a good chance Henry wasn't operating solo here.  I had a hunch Maggie had come early on purpose.  I wondered if they had talked behind my back.  Maybe she had slipped him her phone number or vice versa.  It takes two to Tango, yes?  I frowned.  If Maggie was so interested in Henry, what did she need me for?  Why did I have to suffer? 

When the song ended, Maggie came over to greet me.  She hugged me and gave me a big smooch on the cheek.  What was this big show of affection all about?  Did Maggie have absolutely no idea what was going on in my mind?

Henry reluctantly came over tagging behind.  If I didn't know any better, Henry was trying to steal my girl.  If this was Maggie's new flame, so be it.  Henry could have her.  I was in no mood to fight for her nor did I see any point in raining on the parade.  I did, however, wonder why Henry was so indiscrete.  Maybe he could dance, but this guy could clearly use a few lessons in manners.

This week Henry skipped Cha Cha and added Waltz.  I could not get the hang of this Waltz rise and fall business.  Plodding along, I moved with the grace of a three-legged elephant. 

This lesson was a repeat of our previous visit.  I was disappointed to find my second visit was going to be no better than the first.  The Tango gave me fits.  I was very uncomfortable dancing hip to hip with Maggie.  I was very tense, very self-conscious.  Tonight I danced twice to music... one minute each time. Henry couldn't wait to pull the needle. I frowned as Henry basically gave up on me again.  Either Henry did not like me or I didn't have enough ability for him to bother with.

Instead he spent most of the half hour flirting with Maggie who behaved like she was the glamorous Belle of the Ball. I stood still and fumed while Maggie danced the night away in Henry's arms.  At this point, I had pretty much had enough.  I left in a very bad mood.  The advertisement had said Ballroom dancing was fun.  Not in my opinion.

The Third Lesson

In mid-week, Maggie called me on the phone to make sure I was coming to the next lesson.  As one might gather, it wasn't easy for Maggie to persuade me to show up for the third lesson.  I really didn't want to go back.  However I did want to ask her why my presence was so important considering how little I was participating.  Unfortunately I did not have the guts to confront her.  I resisted mightily, but finally succumbed to Maggie's Magic Words.... "But Rick, you promised!"  Okay, okay, I'll do it.  Like I said, I don't quit easily.

Maggie said she would pick me up.  I think she figured it would be tougher for me to renege this way. 

The 30 minutes of the third week was an instant replay of the first two, except that Henry ignored me even more as if that was possible.  I didn't care anymore.  Promise or no promise, I wasn't coming back for the Fourth Lesson.  I could not wait to get this over with.  I had my eye on the clock the entire time. 

At the end of the lesson, Henry surprised me with a twist so bizarre I could never have imagined it.  He called Maggie and me over for a meeting.

Before my very eyes, Henry actually got out two Report Cards, one for me and one for Maggie.  Henry proceeded to pencil in a letter grade for each dance we had learned!  

I stared at my Report Card in open-mouthed shock.  I could not believe for a moment that Henry had the nerve to grade us!  Whose ridiculous idea was this?  I deeply resented being treated like a kid from the Third Grade.  What planet had Henry beamed down from? 

Finally I got hold of myself and took a look at my Report Card.  I frowned.  To his credit, Henry was at least honest.  I got a C in Foxtrot, a C- in Cha-Cha, a C in Waltz, and a D in Tango.  A bitterness welled up inside.  I had about 20 minutes of exposure to each dance.  What gave him the right to grade me so harshly when I didn't even get much a chance? 

Hmm.  I stared darkly at my "D" grade.  This wasn't a letter I was fond of.  Was Henry suggesting I didn't have much potential to be a Ballroom dancer?  If so, he wouldn't get any argument from me.  I hated this stuff.  I hated the music and I hated the pomp. 

Meanwhile Maggie got straight A's.  No surprise there.  If ever there was a teacher's pet, that would be Maggie.  She yelped with glee and jumped into Henry's arms to give him a big hug.  As introverted as I was, Maggie was completely uninhibited.  I wished I could be that outgoing.

When I saw her hugging on Henry, I felt a burning inside.  I knew I was actually just as bad as my grades suggested, but I couldn't believe this man had the nerve to point it out to my face.  This guy had insulted me every possible way he could think of.  And why?  I had never done anything to him.  I had never in my life met anyone who took such an instant dislike to me.  I could not help but wonder what I was missing here.

My anger gave way to a despair.  I knew I was a pretty good Disco dancer and I definitely knew my right foot from my left.  But I had discovered that freestyle dancing and partner dancing were two completely different ballgames.  At the time I knew absolutely nothing about how to lead a woman.  Nor did Henry offer any tips that might have helped.

Being so tense didn't help much either.  I couldn't hear any beat to the music.  I think my tendency to over-analyze everything was my enemy here.  I was so busy listening to my incessant mental feedback that I could not listen to the music. 

Everything was stacked against me. 

I was a slow learner to begin with and this style of dancing did not come naturally to me.  I did not like the music and I did not like the instructor.  Not only did Henry fail to explain how to lead, he moved our lessons too fast.  No one can expect a man who is a beginner to learn the leads and footwork to four dances in the limited amount of time we had.  Too bad I didn't know that.  Instead I took my clumsiness as another sign that I was the world's worst dancer. 

Had the situation been presented better, I am sure I would have done better.  If Henry had shown some patience and worked with me, I am sure I would have begun to pick it up.  Or if he had offered something fun like Swing, I am sure I would have enjoyed that much more than this difficult and highly foreign hip-to-hip dancing like the Tango and Foxtrot.

Let me add that no one learns to dance by watching some instructor dance with his girlfriend the entire time.  If that were the case, I could just rent a Fred Astaire movie, right?  The only way a man learns to partner dance is to put a girl in his arms and practice.

The whole thing was a set-up.  I never had a chance.

Unfortunately, since this was my first experience at Partner Dancing, I had no way to realize this latest failure was not my fault. Clueless to the realities of partner dancing, I began a new round of profound self-criticism.  All my serious doubts about my lack of dancing ability came flooding back in.  Furthermore, thanks to Maggie's blatant flirtation, my lack of confidence with women was reinforced. 

These lessons had been a huge blow to a self-esteem that bordered on fragile to begin with.  I was disgusted at Henry, disgusted at Maggie, and disgusted at myself.

Meanwhile Maggie would not shut up about her straight A Report Card.  In addition to my disgust with this ridiculous grading system, I was ready to kill Maggie for rubbing it in how she had danced so much better than me.   Even though I agreed it was true, what exactly possessed Maggie to put me down like that?  I wasn't aware dancing was supposed to be competitive.  I guess she thought she was being funny.  If so, I wasn't laughing. 

I was upset.  This entire experience was deeply humiliating.  Maggie's teasing touched a very raw nerve inside me.  By laughing at me, she shamed me over my poor dancing ability almost as much as the Country Club Seven had nine months earlier. 

I couldn't believe this was the same woman who had previously complimented me on my Freestyle dancing.  It stung to have her turn around and be disrespectful to me like this.  I have never taken criticism or ridicule well.  I turned cold as ice with a silent fury.

Let me add it is a good thing I did not realize my pathetic performance was mostly the fault of my instructor or I would have given that jerk a serious piece of my mind.  

Maggie and I were shown into a cramped room.  We were given two wooden chairs which faced a desk. The door was behind the desk.  In other words, if we wanted to leave, we would have to walk around the desk.  Once we sat down, we were basically trapped.

Now the door opened and the Dance Director entered the room.  He greeted us with a big smile and shook our hands.  His name was Dave.  Escape was made even more difficult when Dance Director Dave invited Henry to join the meeting.  Now we had a desk plus two men blocking our exit.  Henry would literally have to move his chair in order for us to leave. 

Then they strapped us both to our chairs... well, just kidding.  However we were clearly cornered.  What kind of racket were they running here?

They ignored me completely.  Apparently Henry had at least explained to the Dance Director that I was unimportant.  Paying no attention to my existence whatsoever, the Dance Director riveted his gaze on Maggie and continued his happy talk.  He announced that he was counting on Maggie and the Invisible Man, aka Mr. D in Tango, to help them win the big dance competition. 

"We can't do it without you! However, in order for you to do well, you will just need a little more polish!!"

And because they desperately needed our help with the Novice phase of the competition, tonight they were going to make a special offer.  Due to our 'unusual promise', they would give us a Large Discount if we would sign up Right This Minute! 

Dave looked straight into Maggie's eyes and said how important it was that people with our kind of potential should fulfill their dance destiny.  Maggie smiled and nodded her agreement.

On cue, the Dance Director magically produced a Contract for Dance Lessons.  On the Contract in bright red ink I could see the word DISCOUNT in bold letters.  Then I looked at the numbers.  The discount reduced a $2,000 sales price down to $1,000 ($979 to be exact). 

Oh boy, a fifty-one percent discount!  I rolled my eyes. Thank goodness they were desperate. It would have been $2,000 if they hadn't been desperate.  Now it would only cost us $979.  We would be saving over a thousand dollars if we signed up now.  What a deal!

Their sales pitch was so lame I just stared at Dave in total stupefaction.  Dance Director Dave was the first hard-sell person I had ever seen in action.  That meant I had no one to compare him to. However, this pitch didn't seem smooth at all.  I imagined a used car salesman or two guys selling fake watches in a back alley would have more skill than this guy.

I was amazed at Dave's audacity.  Does this stuff actually work with anyone?  I don't suppose it ever dawned on him how stupid it sounds to beg someone for their help and say it will only cost $1,000 for the privilege.  If they are 'desperate', shouldn't they be paying us to help?

Meanwhile, I remained the Invisible Man.  Probably due to the hostility that was written all over my face, the three people talked as if I didn't even exist. 

Caesar came, saw, and conquered.  Maggie smiled, laughed, and joked.  Ha ha ha!  Isn't this fun!?  As I fumed, I decided I liked Caesar's approach better.  Get it over with, damn it!  But Maggie just kept yapping away.  She never once lost her patience.  I think she actually enjoyed the attention. 

I stared at her with increasing confusion.  What is her objective?  Maggie seemed to be saying no, but not very forcefully.  If she didn't want the lessons, why were we still here?  If she didn't want the lessons, why didn't she say so?  What exactly DID she want?

This was the weirdest way of saying 'no' I had ever witnessed.  I had heard of women who say 'no' when they really mean 'yes', but I had never met a woman who used this tactic on me.  However, I will say that is exactly how Maggie seemed to behave.  Her mouth said 'no', but her body language said 'yes'.   She was leaning forward, not away.  Her arms were uncrossed and so were her legs.  Her smiles and her animated gestures showed she was fully involved in the process.  Were they keeping her on the hook or was she keeping them on the hook?  Who was zooming who?

It crossed my mind several times that Maggie actually wanted to take lessons.  That made sense.  She seemed to have a real talent for it and she certainly loved to dance.  If that was the case, why had she not asked for a price reduction?  And why didn't she ask me what I thought? 

When the time came, I decided that I would use a different style of doing business.  No contracts.  If I could make my own lessons fun and valuable, I assumed people would sign up willingly for future classes without any need for sales pressure.  That became my fundamental principle of doing business.  Rather than pressure people to sign $1,000 contracts, I let people make up their own mind about returning each month.  No arm-twisting necessary. 

SSQQ became a powerhouse because I found a way to make 'group lessons' affordable and effective as well.  Yes, for people with "The Gift", group lessons were a waste of time.  But for everyone who wasn't in the Eye of the Pyramid, group lessons got the job done just fine. 

In fact, it gives me satisfaction to say our group lessons were so well-organized that many people without "The Gift" still managed to climb to the top of the Pyramid.  Group lessons took them longer, but thanks to their perseverance, they made it there anyway. Better yet, they saved a lot of money.

I discovered that when a student finds a group class with classmates at roughly the same skill level and a competent teacher who moves at the right speed, he or she would much rather pay $6 an hour for a group lesson than $60 an hour for a private lesson.  While it is true that very few of my students ever spent as much as $1,000, over the years I had so many people who preferred my style of doing business that my studio ended up doing very well financially. 

The funny thing is that I thought I was taking a real gamble at the time doing it my way.  Had I known that same Ballroom studio would eventually go out of business using their business model, maybe I wouldn't have been so worried.  Considering my own studio was still going strong when I retired 32 years later, maybe I learned something useful at that place after all. 

Lost Love

Written by Rick Archer
October 2011