MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER NINETY FOUR:

HOTLINE

Written by Rick Archer 

limbo month twenty two
APRIL 1981

HIJACK

It was the first Wednesday of April.  Tonight marked the start of my April Intermediate Western class.  I was on pins and needles wondering about Jane.  I had been very disappointed not to see Jane join me at the March Graduation Night last week.  For the past seven days, I wondered if Jane and her husband Harold would continue onto the Intermediate level.  To be honest, knowing I had a thing for her, it was probably for the best if Jane did not return.  At the same time, it was embarrassing how much I wanted to see her again.  As far as I was concerned, this Limbo Captivity situation had exceeded its time limit long ago.  The only reason I continued to tolerate it was the lack of a good reason to resort to force.  If this sounds like the same reasoning I once used with Jennifer, that is correct.  Now that Jane had gotten past my defenses, I was lonely and starved for affection .  It was almost as if Jane knew I was an easy mark.  Ammonia had known the same thing.  Hmm.  Was it really that obvious?

I expected a large class.  Thanks to the enthusiasm generated by last week's bizarre Cotton Eyed Joe meltdown at the Winchester, I had a hunch a lot of people had gotten hooked on Western dancing that night.  Sure enough, I was pleased when many of the familiar faces reappeared.  In all, 40 students signed up in April for the next set of classes.  Considering we started with 50 last month, this was a very high rate of returning students.  Several of the people who signed up had been in the same line along with Jeremy and me.  Sharing the amusing story with anyone who asked, they held court while awaiting the start of class.  Imagine shutting down a dance floor with 350 people!  The story of how Jeremy had brought the house down was so funny everyone laughed till their sides hurt. 

Listening to them talk, I was glad to see some good had come of this.  The crazy encounter with Bubba helped bring these people together.  Now the subject veered towards what might happen on our next visit.  Their imaginations were working overtime.  In their minds, the Winchester was transformed into some sort of Wild West Saloon.  Would Big Bubba be back?  If so, would he lose his temper and come after Rick again?  Gosh, what crazy thing might happen the next time!  I smiled.  Their excitement grew to the point they were bouncing off the walls.  As for me, I had my eye on the door.  Where was Jane?

I waited, I waited, I waited.  Finally I decided she wasn't coming.  Darn it.  I had become overly fond of Jane.  My class would not be the same without her.  Stalling for time, I played music and told everyone to practice what they learned last month.  As my students circled the floor, I noticed they were watching the door for the same reason.  They were waiting for their leader.  However, at 10 minutes after the hour, I decided Jane wasn't coming, so I stopped the music.  The moment I was about to start, the door opened.  Could it be?  Yes, it was Jane!   Everyone cheered the moment they saw her.  Me too.  When Jane made her grand entrance, my heart leapt for joy.

Jane immediately seized the spotlight.  "Hello, everybody!!  I'm baaack!!  Tonight is April Fool's Day and I'm rarin' to be foolish.  By the way, a little birdie told me y'all got in trouble at the Winchester!  I'm so proud of you!  I knew my class was born to cause trouble!" 

The students immediately cracked up.  The class clown had returned to entertain us.  As for me, I took note of the way Jane said, "My class."  That was prophetic.  This would be the night Jane stole my class.  My students were already excited by tales of the Winchester, so they were easy pickings for Jane's takeover.  I furtively looked for Harold.  Amidst the commotion, I noticed as Harold slunk in quietly behind her.  Since he was clearly not happy to be here, I suspected whatever was wrong with their marriage had worsened.  My heart began to thump furiously at the opportunity.  Did I dare pursue further? 

After thrilling her worshippers with several wisecracks, Jane eventually got around to me.  When it came time for Jane and I to dance in class, she said, "I heard you had a little problem at the Winchester last week.  Too bad I wasn't there to be your bodyguard." 

I smiled.  "Why is that?  Are you some sort of martial arts expert?"

"No, but I have special powers of distraction.  I could have captivated that terrible bad man while you made your getaway."

I laughed in spite of myself.  "Yes, I imagine you could do that.  Maybe you will get your chance at the next Graduation Night."

In Hindsight, that was probably the moment when Jane first put her mind to making our next visit to Winchester a memorable one.  But let's not get ahead of our story.  Fifteen minutes later, Jane raised her hand during a lull in the class.  Considering I had been staring right at her while my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of undressing her, I actually panicked slightly.  Did Jane just read my mind?  Were my naughty thoughts written on my face?  Or was I drooling?  I told myself to settle down.   "Yes, Jane, what is it??"

Jane announced, "Rick, I have a problem.  After a month of lessons in March, my dear husband Harold still cannot hear the beat of the music.  He steps on my toes when we dance all the time.  What can I do to make it easier for Harold to hear the beat?"

All eyes went to Harold.  Why?  Because Jane had pointed to him.  I was shocked.  And so was everyone else.  Jane had finally revealed Harold's existence!  Not surprisingly, Harold turned red.  He was not at all happy being made the center of attention, especially since it contained a put-down of sorts.  However, since Jane's comment had evoked considerable amusement, there was no way he could escape it.  Well aware that Harold did not appreciate being made fun of, I took pity and redirected the attention back to Jane.  

"Well, Jane, why don't you quietly whisper the rhythm while you dance with him?  As I recall, you are pretty good at talking and dancing at the same time."

I instantly regretted my comment.  However, when I noticed that every man in the class snickered, I realized I wasn't the only one Jane flirted with.  I imagine Jane teased men with every breath she took.  Meanwhile, a curious smile crossed Jane's face.  Suddenly her face brightened. 

"Hey, Rick, that's a great idea!  But Harold doesn't listen to me very well.  He only listens when you call it out."

"That's because he is supposed to listen to me.  I'm the teacher.  I'll tell you what, Jane, I will make a deal with you.  I'll put a record on and you can practice calling out the rhythm while we dance.  I have a funny feeling the men would be receptive to any advice you might have for them."

No truer words were ever said.  I had just opened the door for one of the strangest adventures of my life.  Meanwhile the guys quickly picked up on my hint.  "Yeah, Jane, we want you to call it out for us!"

Harold looked relieved to escape the spotlight.  Why did I think Jane's suggestion had more to do with tension in her marriage than Harold's inability to hear the beat?  Whatever the reason, I decided it would be easier just to divert the attention to Jane.  After all, the more attention she got, the happier she was.  So I turned to the class. 

"If I let Jane call out the rhythm for the next song, will you all do your best to keep the rhythm?"

The class unanimously voted to let Jane call out the rhythm.  The men, of course, were all for it.  As for the women, some of them disapproved of Jane.  The married ones never let their husbands out of their sight when Jane was anywhere near.  Ditto for the girlfriends who had noticed the roving eyes of their boyfriends.  However, like me, these ladies decided it was easier just to play along.  As for the unattached ladies, they loved Jane.  They thought she was hysterical.

I grinned and said, "Okay, Jane, the class has given you permission."  Then I turned to the class and said, "Okay, everybody, Jane is going to call out the Twostep rhythm while we dance to the music."

Everyone laughed with anticipation.  I played Peaceful Easy Feeling and let Jane go to work.  For the next three minutes, Jane called out "Slow Slow Quick Quick.  Slow Slow Quick Quick...." 

My Western Swing invention was a work in progress.  I was still trying to figure out the best way to teach this intricate dance.  At the moment, I was still teaching Twostep starting on the 'Slow' and the Double Turns starting on the 'Quick'.  Noticing the confusion this caused the men, next month I would begin teaching Twostep starting on the 'Quick' as well.  However, for the present, it was still 'Slow Slow Quick Quick'.   I smiled as Jane belted out 'Slow Slow Quick Quick' over and over again with considerable enthusiasm.  We all applauded her impassioned effort when the song ended. 

During Intermission, Jane was mobbed by men who thanked her for that valuable service.  Each man confessed that he too was rhythmically-challenged.  Professing their undying gratitude, the men told Jane how incredibly helpful she had been.  Every BS artist in the room was making time and she was giving it back as fast as they could deliver.  One of the bolder ones asked if she would whisper the words to him the next time they danced.  When Jane promised she would, I rolled my eyes.  What this guy was saying and what he was thinking were two different things.  A guy standing to me was watching the interaction.  He turned to me and whispered, "Now I know what it is like to dance with a sex symbol."

I smiled and nodded.  Jane was in her element tonight.  I listened as another admirer told Jane that she was a born dance instructor.  When I overheard him suggest that Jane approach me about teaching, I paled.  Please tell me this isn't happening.  This was a déjà vu moment.  Two and a half years ago, a man had said the exact same thing to Victoria.  My life was beginning to resemble the movie Groundhog Day.  Lately it seemed like I was forced to deal with the same problems over and over again until I got it right.

Jane replied, "Funny you should say that.  I was thinking of asking Rick if I could volunteer to help teach his class."

Then Jane looked at me to see if I had overheard that remark.  I smiled politely, then left the room without a word.  This was exactly how my problems with Victoria had started in a previous lifetime.  Or was it this lifetime?  Victoria had volunteered to help with a class and ended up taking over my life.  This was one fork in the road I had no intention of taking a second time.  Burn me once, shame on you, burn me twice, shame on me.  I made a solemn vow to say 'no' if Jane ever brought the subject up in private. 

And yet that is more or less exactly what happened despite my private objections.  Jane didn't need my permission.  The class loved her antics so much it just kind of happened.  This was my Genie in the Bottle moment.  Once I let Jane take the reins, she wasn't handing them back.  Having elevated her status by calling out the music, for the rest of the night Jane automatically assumed she was my assistant.  Someone asked a question how a pattern fit the music.  Before I knew it, Jane walked over and offered to help me demonstrate.  Jane was a pretty good dancer in spite of her bombshell proportions.  Since she was right in front of me, it was easier just to cooperate.  Now I knew how Harold felt.  Jane didn't ask, she simply asserted her will.  Shades of Victoria.  This was all so very familiar.

Jane was on fire.  Throughout the night, she consistently stole the show.  The class could not get enough of her.  Usually I told the jokes, but not tonight.  Jane had been reduced me to the role of straight man in my own class.  But I didn't mind.  It was all very harmless and her antics boosted the energy sky high.  At the end of the night, I let Jane call out the 'Slow Slow Quick Quick' rhythm a second time to the concluding dance music.   They always say be careful what you ask for.  I had prayed for Jane to return, but suddenly I found myself being dominated.  Back when Victoria was my assistant, she more the supportive type.  She preferred to let me teach without interruption.  Not Jane.  I could not shut her up.  I would say something and she would be sure to add something funny.  Needless to say, concentration was at a minimum, but the spirit was high.  This was the first time I ever had someone hijack my class. 

APRIL 1981

HOTLINE

During the week our new hangout was a dance club known as Texas.  Our veteran dancers liked the music.  Even better, they liked having the entire floor to themselves most of the time.  There were other people in the club, but no one else danced because our hotshots intimidated them.  Thanks to the Western Swing, our moves had gotten so fancy, the average dancer did not want their dancing compared to ours. 

Owning the floor was quite popular with our group.  They liked having plenty of room to dance.  Consequently the dancers met there at least twice a week to dance and hang out.  Texas quickly became home to the Nifty Fifty, the core group of dance students who framed their entire social life around each other.

The Winchester was still important because it was the only venue in Houston that could support our entire group on Graduation Night.  However, when the In Crowd wanted to go dancing during the week, Texas was their choice.  Texas was preferable because it played the new Country music that the blue collar crowd could not tolerate.  What a pleasure it was to escape the ever-present Winchester hostility.  In addition to playing the new Western sound tailor-made for tender Yuppie ears, Texas had a terrific dance floor.

Texas was not my discovery.  This place was the brain child of Jann Fonteno and a couple of her girlfriends.  During March, her first month at the studio, Jann decided to wrap her life around dancing.  Jann was what one might call a 'people person'.  While I was a loner by nature, Jann sought out the company of others. 

Jann's first move was to acquaint herself with the studio's In Crowd.  The Nifty Fifty was a core group of 50 dedicated dancers who thought going Western dancing together four to five nights a week was a great idea.  Dancing and hanging out nightly with the gang was the thing to do at this stage of their life. 

Jann's second move was to recommend adopting Texas as the group's official hangout.  This proved to be such a popular move that Jann gravitated to a leadership role.  However, things got complicated when Dallas opened.  Dallas was just as perfect as Texas.  People couldn't decide which place they liked better.

Jann's third move was absolutely brilliant.  Why choose one over the other?  Why not rotate?  To avoid confusion, Jann offered to dedicate her home phone as a way to alert her group of friends which club to go dancing each night.  Jann called it the Hotline. 

The Hotline was an instant hint.  Like many inventions, the Hotline had developed as the solution to a problem.  Jann's girlfriends complained that they loved to go dancing, but hated going alone.  They were single and did not have a steady boyfriend.  Since Western dancing was their hobby, the girls preferred to stick with the Nifty Fifty.  The men within their group were so far superior in their dance skills that dancing with strangers wasn't much fun anymore unless they were unusually cute.  Not only could the men from our studio lead well, the women trusted them.  Besides, a cute guy was usually only good for one dance and the girls wanted to dance all night long.  Basically they preferred a Sure Thing to Potluck.  Jann realized what the girls needed was someone to organize them.  Jann came up with a good idea.  Why not dedicate her telephone number and answering machine to post a message where the group was meeting every night?  That way the Nifty Fifty would not head off in random directions.  They would know EXACTLY where the gang was headed.

The Hotline development took place shortly after the Bubba incident.  One night at the studio, Jann handed out business cards at Texas with her name and phone number to everyone in sight.  Then she did the same thing at Texas later that night.  Repeating this process every night for a week, in no time Jann had blanketed the entire student body with her Hotline innovation.  Jann explained that she would update the hot spot of the night on a daily basis and... get this... they could call the Hotline any time of the day and night.  Jann said she left her phone unplugged at night, so call whenever it was convenient.  This splendid idea was instantly popular.  With Jann's phone number getting more hits than a piñata, the single girls were in awe.  They slapped their foreheads and said, "Gosh, why didn't I think of that?"

Immediately the Sisterhood bowed at Jann's feet in gratitude.  Any woman this smart deserved to be in charge.  And that is how Jann catapulted herself to the forefront.  Jann was the new Leader of the Pack.  It wasn't like I was demoted; Jann always deferred to me.  However, realizing Jann was much better at socializing than me, I officially handed the reins of the social program to her. 

There were a few kinks in the beginning.  Not wishing to come across as bossy, Jann would let various women make suggestions.  Her Hotline sounded something like this... "Betty is going to Dallas tonight, Debbie is headed to Winchester, and Carol says to meet her at Cowboy for Tom's birthday party."  Unfortunately, sometimes her girlfriends changed their mind at the last minute.  For example, once Betty heard about Tom's birthday party, she ditched Dallas and went to Cowboy instead because it sounded like more fun.  After a few mixups, Jann decided to take total control.  Rather than ask where people wanted to go, Jann picked the spot herself.  Once she made up her mind, Jann would leave a message on her answering machine at which club her friends could meet her for dancing that night.  This was an effective strategy.  Nor was Jann a dictator.  Always the diplomat, Jann took suggestions and rotated clubs and events like the perfect Social Director.  With Jann's popularity off the charts, she got in the habit of going dancing every night of the week.  Once upon a time Victoria had been the Supreme Diva of Disco.  Now it was Jann's turn.  She was the Sweetheart of the Rodeo. 

Keep in mind I had nothing to do with this development.  Jann never asked if she could establish the Hotline.  She simply identified a problem and took steps to correct it.  As our Dance Community grew, it was too big for me.  And so a group of self-appointed lieutenants emerged.  Rilla Ryan was in charge of Charades, Doug Humme was in charge of Sunday afternoon volleyball, Tom Easley and Chuck Clayton made sure the whole world was coming to the next Graduation Party.  Wherever there was a void, people like Jann took ownership.  This was a wonderful development.  Due to my problems with Victoria and Jane, I was not in the mood to get involved in the complicated love lives of so many people.  Therefore I was grateful that Jann saw a role that needed filling and offered to help. 

Jann was now the de facto supervisor of the social side of the studio.  Whenever it came time to plan the schedule for the upcoming month, she would give me her ideas and I would add them to the schedule.  In a sense, I was in charge of the dance program and Jann was in charge of the social program.  Was Jann paid a cent?  No.  Sensing she was in a position to make a valuable contribution, Jann was happy to volunteer her time. 

Men and women began calling her phone all the time.  Since Jann didn't have a job, the Hotline became her hobby.  Any time she was bored, Jann picked up the phone.  This is what she did for fun.  Often people would call to hear the answering machine, but they would get Jann instead.  Jann loved to talk with her friends during the day.

Jann's Hotline turned into the perfect boy ploy.  Think about it... any guy who was interested in Jann had a face-saving reason to call her number any time of day.  Who knows, maybe Jann would answer in person.  Or maybe a guy was just calling to get the information.  Jann had a habit of listening in.  If the guy left a message and Jann was interested in him, she would pick up and start chitchatting. 

This was a brilliant maneuver.  Considering she was a pretty girl to begin with, Jann was besieged with admirers.  Her idea had worked like a charm.  Surrounded by men wherever she went, Jann never lacked for dance partners.  And yet there was that air of mystery about her.  With men swirling around her, why didn't she have a boyfriend?  More than likely, Jann had so many offers she did not know where to start. 

One night I teased Jann about her popularity.  To my surprise, Jann quoted Mae West.  "Men are my hobby.  If I picked one, I would have give up the rest."  I laughed.  Jane and Jann would get along very well.

The rumor was that Jann had more men than she knew what to do with.  So many men, so little time.  And yet Jann never seemed to show up with a boy on her arm.  Did Jann see her legion of admirers on the sly?  Jann wasn't telling.  She was very coy about it.  And if she was up to something naughty, her men were incredibly discrete about it.  Since no one knew the real story, rumors and gossip revolved around her.  We had great fun analyzing the secret love life of Jann. 

Personally, I appreciated her resourcefulness.  Jann wasn't flashy.  Nor did she possess the sizzling sex appeal of someone like Ammonia or Crazy Jane.  However, she did have a sharp mind and a sweetness about her.  Jann saw a need and parlayed it into the greatest social life any single girl could ever hope for.  Or did she?  Jann wasn't telling.

APRIL 1981

DEAD MAN'S CURVES

 

Crazy Jane had so much fun hijacking my class in Week One, now she wanted to do it again.  In the second week of April, Jane came bouncing in through the door and immediately confronted me.

"Hey, Rickie, are you gonna let me call out the rhythm again tonight?"

"Of course, Jane, class wouldn't be the same."

As soon as I got everyone settled down, I played a song to allow Jane to do her thing. "Slow Slow Quick Quick...Slow Slow Quick Quick." 

Jane had the biggest grin on her face.  She adored being the center of attention.  The only problem with Jane calling out the rhythm is that she refused to dance and call it out at the same time.  Noting we were short a couple of girls, I asked Jane why she didn't participate in the dancing while she called out the rhythm. 

"Because men who can't keep the rhythm mess me up!"

I furrowed my brow.  "Please explain."

"I swear, there are some men who don't have a clue what the rhythm is even with me bellowing it in their ear.  They drive me crazy.  I will be dancing and calling out the rhythm and they move at a different speed than the song.  Well, duh, can't they hear me?  I'm like in their arms calling it out and they still don't listen.  What is it about men that prevents them from hearing the music?  Why don't you have that problem when you dance and call it out?"

"I know what you mean, Jane.  Men who are Beginners have fits keeping the beat because their footwork is not automatic yet.  When a man is trying to remember how a pattern works or what lead he needs next, he gets stuck in his head and doesn't hear a thing.  Women get off the beat too, just not as often as men.  It doesn't bother me because I am so much bigger than the women I dance with.  Once I wrap my arm around them, my partners have no choice but move at whatever speed I want them to."

Jane nodded.

"That makes sense.  But I'm not big enough to control the speed of my male dance partners.  It is so irritating.  Here I am trying to call out the beat of the music and they are dancing at a different speed than me.  I cannot listen to the music and follow these deaf and dumb guys at the same time.  So it's easier to sit out the song and stick to calling out the music."

"Maybe it's your fault.  Maybe they can't hear you because they are too distracted."

Jane stuck out her tongue.  "That crossed my mind too.  Too bad I can't train my breasts to rise and fall in time to the music.  Up on the Slows, down on the Quicks."

That made me laugh.  Was the world ready for Jane's dancing breasts?   "Jane, have you ever thought of being a comedian?"

"You aren't the first to suggest it.  When I was a teenager, one of my boyfriends told me that with my distorted anatomy, I could be the first stand up, stand out comedy act.  Then I saw a Mae West movie where she used her body to sell her bad girl jokes.  That did it.  That movie gave me the idea to use my breasts as comedy props.  As Mae West put it, a girl should accentuate her dead man's curves.  Her curves may be dangerous but they won't be avoided."

Jane was not an ordinary woman.  She was on a roll, the sky was the limit.  In the third week of our April class, we saw Jane take her act to a whole new dimension.  The next Winchester Graduation event was just one week away.  Everyone was on edge with anticipation.  I could feel the tension building.  After last month's fiasco with Big Bubba, everyone was certain something new and exciting would happen next week.  Jane got swept up in the fervor.  When it came time for her Rhythm Ritual, Jane summoned everyone into a small circle.  Jane got in the middle of the huddle and spoke up. 

"Okay now, next week is our big trip to the Winchester Club.  I missed the last one, but I promise to be there this time.  But only on one condition!  The men MUST start keeping the beat!  Do you guys hear me?"

Jane paused and began pointing her finger at each man one at a time to let them know she meant business.

"The girls have the rhythm of the Twostep down pat, but the guys still need lots of work.  You men are not rookies any more.  No doubt you expect to dance with those cute little Beginner girls at the Winchester and show them how it's done.  However, I am warning you that in your current state of development, you are not ready!"

Jane paused again to give the men a dirty look.  I smiled as Jane used her Third Grade Teacher personality to drive the point home.

"After all my hard work, some of you guys are Dead Beats.  That's what I call men who miss the beat.  That cannot happen when we hit the Winchester next week.  I don't want to be embarrassed.  I don't want to be seen dancing with a deadbeat.  That means it's time for me to whip you into shape.  Tonight when I call it out, you men will pay attention.  Do you hear me?"

Mind you, Jane's drill sergeant approach was mostly tongue in cheek, but it was very effective.  I saw glimpses of the teacher in her... half-cajoling, half-demanding, full of teasing encouragement.  Watching how the men were eating it up, I took note of her mastery.  If Jane could tone it down a bit, I imagine she would make a pretty good dance teacher.  But toning it down was hardly what Jane had in mind tonight.  She was in Lion Tamer mood.  I put on the music and let Jane conduct her 'Slow Slow Quick Quick' ritual as everyone danced a Twostep.

After the song was over, Jane spoke up.  "Okay, that's better.  You guys have definitely improved.  Maybe there's hope for you yet."

One of the men quipped, "I have an intermittent rhythm issue, Jane.  Sometimes I go too fast, sometimes I go too slow.  When we go to the Winchester next week, will you be there to coach us?  We need you."

"Like I said, I will come next week on one condition.  It boils down to how well you do in class.  You men cannot disappoint me.  No more rhythm lapses.  I don't want to be out on that floor at the Winchester dancing with a bunch of losers who can't keep the beat.  Do you understand?"

All the men replied in unison, "Yes, Jane, we understand."

At the end of the night, Jane spoke up again.  "Okay, guys, it's time to practice your new Twostep moves to music.  But first you need to know something.  Women do not like dancing with guys who have no rhythm.  They get tired of getting their feet stepped on."

Jane paused and pointed at the women.  "Am I right, girls?"

The women chimed in.  "You are absolutely right, Jane!"

"Okay, guys, you heard the ladies loud and clear.  If you intend to be God's gift to women, then I suggest you take my advice.  So let's practice!  Rick, please start the music."

It crossed my mind that now I was taking orders from Jane.  Shades of Victoria, Jane's outsized personality had shoved me to second billing.  Fortunately I was secure enough in my teaching skill not to mind.  To be honest, Jane was a good teammate.  She had eased up with the interruptions and I in turn made sure to involve her.  Jane let me teach and I let her show off.  Besides, Jane was in rare form tonight.  I was enjoying the Jane Show just like everyone else.  The moment I put on Louisiana Saturday Night, an energetic Twostep, Jane began stomping her feet and clapping her hands to the beat of the music.  Due to her animation, her breasts began bouncing wildly in every direction.  As one breast went up, the other would go down.  Every jaw in the place fell open.  Me too.  Suddenly my feet didn't know what to do anymore.  What man could dance with this spectacle?  I started to laugh at how absolutely wacko this woman was.  Lucille Ball had nothing on Crazy Jane.

Jane didn't stop there.  As Jane called out "Slow Slow Quick Quick", she began to whoop and holler encouragement. "Get your butts moving... and quit looking at my chest!  You guys need to learn to concentrate!"  The men cracked up.  I had never heard a woman make such a racket in all my life.  She was bound and determined to drill the beat of the music into their thick skulls any way she could.   

The best part came when Jane yelled, "All together now!!  Everybody call it out!"  

On cue, every person began chanting "Slow Slow Quick Quick" as they danced.  The whole room giggled with laughter.  Jane was putting on quite a show.  This woman would do anything for attention.  She had transformed herself into some sort of buxom Twostep Cheerleader.  Jane definitely had a style of her own, I'll say that much for her.  It was time for Break, so when the song was over, I pulled Jane aside. 

"That was quite a show.  You did everything but beat your chest like Tarzan."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?  Hmm, that gives me an idea."

"Seriously, Jane, you are the craziest woman I have ever met."

"Well, thank you, Rick, I guess.  Did you know they called me 'Jane the Insane' back in high school?"

"Did they really?  Well, they call you Crazy Jane behind your back in class."

Jane did a double-take.  "Crazy Jane, eh?  I did not know that.  I'll take it as a compliment.  Crazy Jane beats Insane Jane any night of the week!  See you next week."

This was not an ordinary woman.