MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN:

THE DANCE CURSE

Written by Rick Archer 

It was Saturday, September 25.  Tonight I would face my fears.  Acutely aware of my Dance Curse, I was determined not to mess up.  The surest way to avoid problems is to develop muscle memory.  Unwilling to take any chances, Judy and I had practiced after class twice a week for three months.  It became my obsession to succeed.  No more screw ups.  Nothing would stop me, not even a Curse.

Of course I was nervous.  I was about to put my reputation on the line.  No one knew about my secret ability to Waltz.  No one knew about my performing mishaps from the Disco Era.  Other than Judy, I doubt there was a single person in the audience who knew a thing about my past misfortunes, not even V-Ann.  For crying out loud, the last accident was four years ago!  Since it was not my habit to talk about the Curse, this was my own private demon.

Right before we started, Judy smiled at me and told me not to worry.  I smiled back.  To my surprise, I was not nervous at all.  Judy was a terrific dancer.  When we practiced, she never made a mistake.  As for me, due to countless rehearsals I was positive I knew my moves.  Nor were we doing anything dangerous.  Besides, Judy had promised me nothing could go wrong.  NOTHING!  Like she said, "Who gets hurt dancing a Waltz?"  And even if something did wrong, so what?  Maybe Judy would slip or maybe I would lose my balance, but big deal.  No matter what happened, overall the dance would turn out just fine.  We had prepared so well that our overall excellence would render any mistake negligible. 

We would dance to The Last Waltz.  This was my moment to shine and I intended to enjoy myself.  Although performing was hardly my forte, all that practice had paid off.  I was thrilled to see our routine get off to a good start.  Pardon my immodesty, but I am proud to say that Judy and I danced beautifully.  I smiled broadly to our friends as we moved around the floor with Twinkles, Parallels, Grapevines and Promenades. 

The audience could see we knew what we were doing.  Thanks to a quick peek, I could tell from the expressions that people were impressed.  They gave us many smiles and much applause.  With no sign of the Curse, I patted myself on my back for having the courage to dismiss my needless concerns.  So far we had danced beautifully without the slightest error and now there was just one thing left to do.  It was time for our final pattern, a lovely combination known as the 'Twist-Dip'. 

The Twist-Dip has two parts.  Part One is known as the Tango Lunge.  Judy would slide her leg and knee under mine and hit a Lunge Position.  Next comes Part Two, the Twist Dip.  Once Judy was set, I would twist my feet and body to the left, rotating Judy with me.  Once we were done 'twisting', we would hit a daring hip-locked Dip position.  Once she was sure that I was balanced and had her under control, Judy would arch her back.  I had no fear.  Judy and I had danced this combination in practice countless times without a problem.  Besides, even if we stumbled, so what?  No one is going to get hurt.  I was certain the Curse was over. 

I brought Judy to a pre-planned pause to allow her to carefully slide her right leg into Lunge position.  Mission accomplished.  Once she was set, I twisted my body gently to the left while Judy rotated her body 150 degrees from the Lunge Position to the Twist Dip.  We executed both moves fluidly.  Arching her back, Judy's head almost touched the floor.  I held this dramatic Dip position for several seconds to allow our spectators to appreciate our dramatic ending.  Dancing is said to be the vertical expression of a horizontal desire.  The compromising position we were in was the perfect example.  We were locked together so tight, it left little to the imagination. After holding the move long enough to allow people time to applaud, our performance ended on this triumphant note. 

Maybe I spoke too fast.  The hard part was over, but we still had to exit the pattern.  In order to get out of this position, we had to rise together gracefully, then disengage once we were standing up.  Since our bodies were intertwined, the most graceful way to proceed called for Judy and I to rise slowly as a hip to hip unit.  Once we were standing, our legs would be untangled and we could separate.  Since we had practiced this fairly simple exit maneuver many times, I did not give it a second thought. 

Still locked together, Judy and I rose slowly to warm applause.  I remember congratulating myself that the horrible Dance Curse was finally over.  Good riddance!  However, as Yogi Berra once said, "It ain't over till it's over."  Now that we were standing, Judy and I were still joined hip-to-hip.  I took Judy's hand and tried to separate our bodies by turning her away from me. 

To my surprise, Judy did not budge!  What the heck?  Why is Judy still stuck to me?  "That's weird!", I thought.  So I tried turning her again.  Yet again Judy did not leave.  For some reason, our hips remained joined together pelvis to pelvis.  I had no idea what was wrong.   

I wasn't the only one who was confused.  Judy could  tell something was wrong.  Frightened by our mysterious fusion, Judy panicked.  She thrashed about in a vain attempt to free herself.  For a moment Judy seemed to get free, but whatever held us together operated like a strong rubber band.  Several times Judy pulled free a inch or two, but her pelvis would invariably snap back into mine.  Agitated beyond reason, Judy thrashed anew only to snap back to me again.

Each time Judy tried to wrench her body free, her hips had less freedom to move.  She kept trying anyway.  I was appalled at the appearance of what Judy was doing.  To the audience, our actions closely resembled push push in the bush.  Indeed, Judy's panicked thrusts mimicked the throes of passion.  Unwilling to continue this unsavory illusion of wild love-making, I grabbed Judy's hips and forced her to stand still. 

"What the Hell is wrong!?!" Judy exclaimed with bulging eyes.

"I don't know, Judy" I whispered, "but you need to stop thrashing!  We look ridiculous!"

It was a smart move to caution her.  Judy regained her poise and stopped making her embarrassing thrust motions.  However, the damage was done.  As one can imagine, the optics of our forced entanglement were devastating.  Judy's unintentional pelvic thrusts had given the audience the impression of two lovers banging away with gusto.  The applause changed from warm appreciation first to shock, then to gales of boisterous laughter.

No one could figure out what we were doing or what was wrong, but something very bizarre was definitely taking place.  Seeing our hips jerk back and forth was a sight bordering on hysterical.  One would assume something this ridiculous could only occur in a comical I Love Lucy skit.  It was funny to the audience, but not to us.  Preposterous as it seemed, here were two adults doing X-rated thrusts in front of one hundred incredulous spectators.

Hearing the laughter, I felt a giant wave of shame wash over me.  Just when I thought I had endured more humiliation than humanly possible during my five previous Dance Curse misadventures, this remarkable farce topped them all.  One hundred people laughed raucously as Judy and I performed a convincing impression of the sex act in public.  It did not matter that we had our clothes on, the imagery was unmistakable.  I groaned out loud.  Who would have thought a harmless Waltz routine could become the most embarrassing moment of my life?  This was not some anonymous crowd.  These were my friends, my students, people who knew me.  Everyone was laughing their head off AT ME.  I am sure Judy felt the same way.  Nor was there any escape.  Until someone figured out what was wrong, Judy and I were stuck together like Siamese twins. 

"V-Ann," I called.  "Please come out here and see what the problem is."

Poor V-Ann.  Right there in the middle of the floor in front of everyone, V-Ann was forced to get down on her knees and stick her nose where it did not belong. 

"Rickie, don't get mad, but it's so dark with your black pants and Judy's black dress, I can't see what the problem is."

"Oh my God," Judy muttered.  "V-Ann, you've got to do something.  Stick your hand in there, I don't care.  See if you can feel around and find what's keeping us glued together."

V-Ann was mortified.  "I can't stick my hand in there with all these people watching!"

In her panic, Judy made an error of judgment.  "Damn it, V-Ann, I don't give a shit.  Just do it!"

V-Ann replied in a whisper, "Are you sure you want me to do that?"

Judy bellowed, "Yes, goddamnit!  Find out what's wrong and get us out of this mess."

Everyone in the room heard Judy.  With their mouths agape, they finally caught on that this was not a joke, but rather that something truly bizarre was taking place.  Did I have a clue what the problem was?  I had no idea what was wrong.  However I deeply regretted calling V-Ann out here.  This inspection should have been done in private, but I had counted on a quick, simple fix.  Nor did I anticipate Judy would bully her best friend into performing a public pelvic exam.  Since neither of us could take a step without tripping, a quick exit was impossible.  And so the public spectacle continued.

V-Ann continued to grope around.  Yes, I felt my private parts being gently massaged.  I was mortified.  But Judy insisted that V-Ann continue.  If this is what Judy wanted her to do, then by golly that's what V-Ann would do.  This was a HUGE MISTAKE.  All I can say is thank goodness no photographs emerged in the aftermath.  The sight of V-Ann down on her knees sticking her hand into our private parts was more than anyone could possibly handle.  Incredulous, peels of hysterical laughter cut my pride to shreds.  All this work was ruined!  I had been trying so hard to impress these people only to fail miserably.  Nor could I blame them for laughing.  Were the situation reversed, I would have laughed too. 

We were the victims of a freak mishap that happened to create a very nasty... and very funny... illusion.  Maybe a seasoned professional could have made a joke out of it, but not me.  Thanks to my previous mishaps, I was far too sensitive to laugh this off.  I just stood there helplessly and burned like the Towering Inferno.  I was stunned by my bad luck.  I had done everything in my power to prevent something from going wrong only to see it happen anyway.  Just as I feared, the Dance Curse lived on. 

Even worse, this ordeal was not over.  Try as we might, Judy and I still could not separate.  If anything, Judy's thrashing had made the problem much worse.  Hopelessly joined together at the hip, I could not see what was wrong.  All I knew was we could not pull apart, so I gave up trying.  I certainly did not want to stick my own hand down there in front of one hundred spectators.   There was enough hootin' and hollerin' as it was without adding the illusion of groping my girlfriend.  I shook my head in abject despair. 

"V-Ann," I whispered, "do you have any idea what the problem is?"

"Yes, I think the rope cord on Judy's dress is caught on your belt."

"That is impossible, but I will take your word for it.  Is there any way you can untie us?"

"No, I don't think so.  I found a very tight knot.  I think I will need scissors." 

"In that case, we need to get off the floor.  This spectacle has gone on long enough."

Ordinarily in a three-legged race, the participants are joined side by side.  Not so for us.  Judy and I were joined in such a way that we had to inch off the floor in a four-legged face-to-face position.  As I backed up one inch at a time, Judy matched each step.  The laughter was unbearable.  And then it happened.  When Judy's foot stepped on mine, I stumbled and took her down with me.  Sprawled on floor, Judy landed on top.  To our great relief, two men rushed out to help us get back up.  Rather than laugh, this time the crowd groaned.  They were certain now that something far beyond the ordinary was taking place.  Up till now it had been funny, but the confusion about what was going on made people curious.  If nothing else, the stumble and our inability to rise under our own power made it clear that something had mysteriously made us inseparable.  There was no way we could possibly fake so much clumsiness. 

Once we were back on our feet, Judy began to cry.  When V-Ann saw Judy's tears, she had a sudden inspiration.  To defuse the tension, V-Ann turned to the silenced crowd.  With great glee, V-Ann made an announcement.

"Look, everyone, Rick and Judy are inseparable!  They have decided to tie the knot!  How about a big round of applause!!"

No one but V-Ann knew about the knot, but the quip worked anyway.  V-Ann's wisecrack helped considerably.  By making everyone laugh, the good mood was restored.  Even Judy smiled a little at the absurdity of it all.  Sometimes it's better to laugh than cry.  As the two men escorted us to Glen's office, we left the floor to thunderous applause.  Everyone agreed this was the best show they had ever seen.  Some wit called out, "Can't wait for the encore!"

Once we made it to Glen's office, we shut the door for privacy.  I told V-Ann what button to push to start the dance music again.  And while she was in the DJ booth, I told where I kept a flashlight and scissors.  As we waited for her return, Judy and I did our best to keep it together.  Completely traumatized, we said nothing.  Could this situation have possibly been any more embarrassing?  No.

There was some very dark irony in this situation.  Judy had told me I was nuts to believe in a dance curse.  Now that the Curse had spread to her, she wasn't teasing me anymore.  In fact, Judy didn't say a word.  Instead she gave me 'The Look of Death'.  Good grief, we were nose to nose, eye to eye, hip to hip, and here I am getting the telepathic Riot Act.  Yes, I recognized that look.  I had seen it before.  This was the infamous "How could you do this to me?" expression.  I had gotten THE LOOK from Suzy at the Ritz, Patricia at Spats, and Victoria at the Lighthouse, Foley's, and Annabelle's.  I was not sure why I always got blamed, but it is what is.  As for our current problem, it wasn't like I could walk away.  For lack of anything better to do, I gave Judy a kiss.  Guess what?  It didn't work.  Judy was cold as ice, definitely not in a mood to be humored.

Meanwhile the problem was still not solved.  V-Ann returned with the flashlight.  The three of us were alone.  V-Ann got back down on the floor and carefully shined the light at our crotches.  Words cannot adequately describe just how bizarre this situation was.  Thank goodness V-Ann's husband Bob was at home because it was about to get worse.  With my black pants and her black dress obliterating any light, V-Ann still wasn't able to see very well.  "I'm sorry, guys, but I have to stick my hand in there again."

I tried to keep a straight face as V-Ann rubbed me 'there', but when I rolled my eyes, Judy's anger turned to laughter at the look of dismay on my face.  Judy couldn't help herself.   She decided to give me a hard time.

"Keep it up, V-Ann, I think Rick getting turned on!"

With that crack, V-Ann bolted up in stark embarrassment.  Trying to keep a straight face, V-Ann said, "I can't see what's wrong, but my fingers found a place where Judy's string belt seems wrapped around Rick's belt buckle.  I'm sorry, but it is so tight, unless Rick takes his pants off, I can't see well enough to untie the knot."

The Look was gone.  It was laugh or cry, so Judy's wicked sense of humor kicked in.  "V-Ann, if you think Rick should remove his pants, then that's what he should do!"

Judy looked at me with a mischievous grin.  "Are you wearing underwear?"  I blanched.  Was Judy serious or was she joking? 

Fortunately V-Ann bailed me out.  V-Ann hesitated a moment, then spoke u.  "I'm not sure I agree with that.  I'm sorry, Judy, but I think the best solution is to snip your belt with the scissors."

Now it was Judy's turn to blanch.  "Oh, no, not my dress!  This is my brand new dress."  Shaking her head, Judy gave in.  "Okay, do it, I don't care, I just want to get free."

"Uh, V-Ann," I added, "try to be careful with those scissors.  I don't need another circumcision." 

Judy couldn't resist.  "Don't listen to Rick.  Do whatever it takes to get me free.  After this debacle, Rick won't be needing his apparatus for a long time."

Gee, thanks a lot, girlfriend.  Judy had a funny way of expressing herself.  Typically I enjoyed her wit, unless, of course, her humor was at my expense.

As I stood there, the knot caused by Judy's severed cord was stuck to my belt buckle.  The string-like cord had somehow gotten intertwined with my buckle during the Twist Dip.  When Judy thrashed, like a Chinese finger trap, her jerking motion had made the connection tighter.  V-Ann was correct to suggest scissors.  The knot was incredibly tight.  In a sense, Judy and I were joined by a Gordian Knot.  Fortunately, once V-Ann snipped the rope cord, the problem was solved.  The Siamese twins were finally free. 

SEPTEMBER 1983

REPAIRING THE DAMAGE

 

If this accident had happened with any other woman besides Judy, I probably would have died of shame.  Fortunately, Judy handled this mishap a lot better than I did.  I was ready to let V-Ann lock up the studio while I disappeared from sight and committed suicide.  Judy thought otherwise.  Although she had been embarrassed too, Judy was able to shrug it off.

"Come on, Rick, let's go back out and show everyone what went wrong."

I left the cord still attached to my belt buckle for show and tell.  This way people could see the tangled knot for themselves.  Too bad no one thought to get a photograph.  Judy and I went from person to person for inspection.  Everyone agreed this was the strangest thing they had ever seen.  No one could imagine what had caused this.  In the process we received a considerable amount of good-natured teasing.  To my surprise, I did not mind the harassment.  It was a good move to show everyone what had gone wrong.  Now that everyone could see for themselves, they were amazed.  In addition, they realized we were the victims of a freak accident.

After everyone had a good look, Judy and I made an announcement to thank our guests for their patience and understanding.  Everyone was smiling, so all's well that end's well.  The public display had been a brilliant PR move on Judy's part.  Once people saw what the problem was, we received more sympathy than I imagined possible.  The women were very kind to Judy.

"How you kept your cool during that ordeal was amazing!"

As for me, the guys just winked.  Whatever they wanted to say could not be said with Judy at my side, so they had the sense to keep their wisecracks to themselves. 

It had been a long night.  I was exhausted, so I asked V-Ann to lock up so I could leave early.  Judy decided to use the restroom.  As I stood waiting, my friend Jim Barrett tapped my shoulder.  "That was a nice Waltz performance.  You should be proud of yourself."

I was taken aback.  Thank goodness one person had noticed.

"Thank you, Jim.  You just made my night."

SEPTEMBER 1983

DO YOU BELIEVE IN CURSES?

 

On the way home, Judy was very forgiving. 

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself.  It was a freak accident.  You didn't do anything wrong and neither did I.  Shit happens, so let's get over it and move on."

Glancing at Judy, I asked, "Do you believe in my Dance Curse now?"

With a frown, Judy nodded.  "As a matter of fact, yes, I do."

"Do you have any idea how that knot happened?"

Judy shook her head.  "Not a clue.  With our hips touching like that, I can't figure out how that cord slipped between your buckle.  Nor can I figure out how that cord could have gotten wrapped up so tightly."

I agreed with Judy.  I was convinced this had been an act of Fate.  When Fate is involved, anything is possible.  However I did not think this was the right time to discuss my Supernatural beliefs, so I changed the subject. 

"I'm so sorry, Judy.  I cannot begin to explain how upset I am to put you through all that.  What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Do you really want to make it up to me?"

"Sure.  What do you want?"

"V-Ann accidentally sliced my new dress with her scissors.  Buy me a formal dress for New Year's Eve."

I smiled wanly.  "Deal.  That is the least I can do."

Judy squeezed my hand.  All was forgiven.

THE DANCE CURSE REVISITED

 

Rick Archer's Note: 

Take a look at the picture and try to imagine a solution to the mystery.  With our hips pressed tightly together, I cannot imagine how Judy's string-like belt somehow got inside my belt buckle.  To me it is inconceivable.  But for the sake of argument, let's say the cord did slide inside the buckle.  I contend the initial connection had to be so fragile, it should have come loose the first time I tried to disengage.  From a standing position, I took Judy's hand and twirled her away from me.  The weight and force of a woman spinning away should have been more than sufficient to dislodge whatever small part of Judy's cord was stuck to my buckle.  But instead the connection was strong enough to prevent Judy from moving right from the start.  How could the connection be so strong? 

Regarding the Gordian Knot story, Hindsight is of no use.  Over the past 40 years, I cannot think of a single Realistic Explanation to explain how Judy's string belt got so tightly wrapped around my buckle.  Stuck together like Siamese twins, this bizarre episode stretched the outer limits of credulity.  Well aware of the Curse, I had prepared as thoroughly as I was humanly capable.  And yet it did no good.  On a night when nothing could go wrong, something did go terribly wrong.  I understand that accidents happen, but this one was belonged in Ripley's Believe it or Not.  And so my Dance Curse continued, now listed at six mishaps in a row.

People call incidents like this 'Freak Accidents'.  Nonsense.  I think an Unseen Hand wrapped that cord around my belt.  But can I prove that?  Of course not.  I can't prove that any of my stories are Supernatural.  But that does not stop me from believing what I believe. 

So what were the consequences of this bizarre accident?  Readers might be surprised to find this turned into another case of dumb luck.  I was so bad I was good.  Indeed, the sensation caused by my strange Gordian Knot problem was so powerful it rivaled Crazy Jane's legendary SSQQ tee-shirt.  People could not stop talking about the weird accident.  In addition, it helped that the Waltz Performance had been flawless.  It accomplished exactly what I hoped it would.  People were so impressed, they became more interested in learning how to Waltz.  However, I don't think the performance by itself would have made quite the same impact without the spotlight focused by my freak accident.  As they say, be careful what you wish for.  I had wished for a slam-dunk, get up out your seats unforgettable moment and look what happened.  It was unforgettable all right.  Funny how that works. 

I went ahead and offered a month-long Waltz class in January 1984.  To my great satisfaction, the class was well-attended.  They say the Lord works in mysterious ways.  It turns out that the notoriety contributed greatly in making my premier month-long Waltz class successful.  Thanks to the Gordian Knot accident, Western Waltz became a fixture at SSQQ. 

JIM BARRETT AND GLORIA WRIGHT

Jim Barrett and his lovely dance partner Gloria Wright were important to me because they were my Ballroom pioneers.  As of 1982, in four years I had never had a single request for Ballroom lessons.  Where Ballroom dancing was concerned, Jim and Gloria were my Adam and Eve.  They were the ones who got the ball rolling. 

I never fully explained how Gloria came to be my replacement as Jim Barrett's private lesson dance partner.  Gloria was my long-time dance assistant in the Wednesday Western class.  Jim was one of the students in the that class.  Although Jim was a very serious man, Gloria had the ability to make him laugh at his mistakes.  Jim often bristled when I corrected his mistakes.  However he did not seem to mind when Gloria did the same.  She was always so gentle whenever she fussed at him.  Whenever Jim messed up, Gloria was ready with a funny quip.

"Gosh, Jim, it must be true that opposites attract.  I am Miss Wright and you are always Mr. Wrong."  

If I had said that, Jim would have snarled.  But when Gloria said it, Jim laughed.  I had to hand it to her.  Gloria definitely had the healing touch.  Aren't women incredible?

By dancing with me in private lessons for an entire year, Jim improved his Twostep considerably.  However, once he began to get the hang of it, Jim informed me he was no longer afraid of a woman's scorn.  Would I mind if Gloria joined our lesson?  I said that was a great idea.  Well aware of why Jim would prefer to dance with a beautiful woman instead of me, I did not take it personally.

When Jim finally worked up the nerve to ask Gloria if she would like to join him, Gloria said yes, but asked for a favor. 

"Jim, I have always wanted to learn how to Waltz.  When I was little, my father used to put me on his feet and waltz with me.  I used to pretend I was Cinderella.  Would you consider letting Rick teach us how to Waltz?  And maybe some of the other Ballroom dances as well?"

Jim was so eager to have Gloria as his partner instead of me, he immediately said yes.  Can't say as I blamed him.  Besides, now that Jim's Western dancing had become reasonably acceptable, he was ready for a new challenge.

Over the next year Jim and Gloria learned Waltz, Foxtrot, Swing, and Cha-Cha.  I would show Jim a move and let him perfect it with Gloria.  Of the four dances, Waltz was by far Jim's favorite.  Why was that?  Because Waltz was Gloria's favorite dance and Jim enjoyed making her happy.  Indeed, Gloria's eyes sparkled whenever I played a Waltz. 

Gloria was much younger than Jim, half his age.  However she did not seem to mind the age difference.  Gloria was a sweetheart.  There was nothing romantic going on with the two, but I could see she adored Jim.  He was such a gentleman, polite and respectful at all times.  Every time Jim saw Gloria, he expressed how grateful he was for her help.  It did not take long for them to become really good friends.  One night during our private lesson, Gloria asked Jim when he was going to take her Ballroom dancing.  Jim turned to me for help.  At his request, I scheduled a visit to a Friday night event at Melody Lane Ballroom. 

This was an odd move on my part.  Why?  Due to lack of interest, I had never taught a Ballroom class other than East Coast Swing.  Since Ballroom dancing was not popular with my group, I doubted anyone would come.  Turns out I was correct.  Only 10 misguided souls showed up.  Oh well, this Ballroom adventure was an experiment, so I didn't care.  Besides, I had Judy with me, so I was in a good mood.  Judy had never danced Ballroom Cha-Cha, Foxtrot and Tango before, so I taught her out on the floor.  Not surprisingly, Judy picked it up fast and said she was having fun.   

I was sitting with Judy when the band played a famous Waltz titled 'Moon River'.  Jim was so new to Ballroom dancing, he didn't know a Waltz from a Tango.  But Gloria recognized the song, so she asked Jim to dance.  Judy wanted to dance, but I was curious to see how Jim would do.  As we watched, Jim's footwork was okay, but his rhythm was atrocious.  Throughout the song Jim moved at whatever speed made him happy.  Sometimes he sped up, sometimes he slowed down.  Given his erratic tempo, I was shocked to see Gloria follow Jim perfectly. 

Stunned to see Gloria stick to Jim like glue, I shook my head in admiration.  Amazing.  How does she do that?  Having danced with Jim myself, I knew how hard it was to dance with someone so blatantly a-rhythmic.  I could never hope to equal what Gloria had just done, so now I was curious.  The moment she returned to the table, I pulled her aside. 

"Gloria, how do you follow Jim so perfectly?  He wasn't anywhere near the beat of the music!"

"Oh, I know.  Bless his heart, Jim has a lot of trouble hearing the music.  He is always thinking so hard sometimes he doesn't even realize there is music playing.  But he counts out loud while we dance.  So I ignore the music and listen to Jim count instead.  I move to whatever speed Jim is counting.  Works like a charm."

I had to smile.  Gloria's explanation tickled me no end.  Such a clever girl!

Just then Jim joined us at the table with a drink he had purchased for Gloria.  He was beaming with pride.  Turning to me, Jim said, "Thank you for teaching me how to Waltz.  Otherwise I would have never had the chance to dance with Gloria tonight.  I am starting to really like the Waltz."

Secretly I was thrilled to see how far Jim had come, but you know me, I couldn't resist the chance to tease him a little.

"Gloria told me you count out loud when you dance.  Is that true?" 

Of course I knew it was true.  I had heard him count a million times myself.

Jim smiled.  He knew I was kidding him.  "Yes.  I just wish my hands had six fingers so I could count the Waltz better."

Gloria and I looked at each other in shock.  Oh my goodness, did ultra-serious Jim just tell a joke?   Wonders never cease.

Amused by his answer, the following week Gloria brought Jim a present to their private lesson.  When Jim opened the box, he found a pair of gloves.  Upon inspection, Jim realized Gloria had sewed an extra finger onto each glove.  Tickled by the gift, Jim insisted on wearing his 'Waltz gloves' the entire lesson that day so he could 'practice his counting'.  Jim claimed that learning the Waltz was so much easier now that he had this teaching aid to rely on.  Gloria could barely contain her grin. 

Permit me to get a little mushy, but the affection between Jim and Gloria really touched me.  Here was this lonely older man and Gloria had gone far out of her way to bring him out of his shell.  It was heart-warming moments like this that made me glad to be a dance teacher.

My 'drunk as a skunk' mishap took place a few months after our Ballroom Adventure.  Since Gloria was nowhere to be seen that day, I had no choice but to take her place.  Once I discovered how hard it was to speak coherently, in desperation I insisted Jim dance with me to music for the entire hour.  That was the only way I could avoid talking.  And so we danced.  Then we danced some more.  Sure enough, Jim began counting as we Waltzed.  It took every bit of self-control not to giggle.  After a while I decided to nudge Jim back on the beat whenever he wavered.  To my surprise, it worked.  This was not something a petite woman like Gloria could do, but I had the size to pull it off.  Jim never blinked.  I don't think he even noticed how I gently influenced him to stay on the beat. 

After our lesson was over, I could not get the memory of how much fun I had out of my mind.  Quite frankly, I had never realized how pleasurable dancing can be for a woman until this moment.  As a result, I finally understood why grown women acted like silly teenagers over any man who could dance competently.  This was such a powerful revelation that I took it as an omen that I should pay more attention to the Waltz.  This in turn led to the Waltz performance.  Despite the embarrassing finish, Judy helped me see the crazy ending enhanced our dance by making it memorable.  Thanks to Judy's encouragement, I decided to take advantage of the notoriety.  Following the Christmas Holidays, I scheduled my very first Ballroom Group class in January 1984 with a promise to start with Waltz. 

The class itself was very well attended, but there was an unfortunate consequence.  Over the Holidays Gloria decided to withdraw from her private lessons.  Gloria had been my assistant for several years.  In the grand tradition of my dance assistants, this lovely young woman was very popular.  Beautiful and kind, the men lined up to ask Gloria out.  Usually my pretty assistants were swooped up in a flash, but Gloria was in no hurry.  She played the field until one day she found the guy she lied.  I did not pry, but I could tell Gloria was particularly sweet on Oran Russell, one of the students in the Western class she helped me with. 

Over the Holidays, Gloria's relationship with Oran turned serious.  So she resigned as Jim's private lesson dance partner to spend more time with Oran.  Not long after, she stopped assisting me for the same reason.  It was not like Gloria was gone.  Oran and Gloria continued to attend the monthly dance parties at the studio.  And sometimes I saw them out dancing at a Western club on a weeknight.  After a happy courtship that involved many nights of dancing, Oran and Gloria married in July 1986.  I am pleased to report they had a wonderful marriage. 

Gloria was gone, but she was not forgotten.  Both Jim and I understood.  We dealt with our loss content in the knowledge that Gloria was happy in her personal life.  However, Jim lost interest in private lessons after Gloria left.  No woman could ever replace Gloria.  Instead Jim signed up for my new Ballroom Waltz class in January.

This led to a very unusual moment.  Jim and I never discussed what had taken place during my drunk as a skunk dance lesson.  However one day the subject managed to come up in the Ballroom Waltz class.  During the Ballroom class, a lady named Betty complained that she did not like men telling her what she was doing wrong. 

"If the men are so sure of themselves that they can criticize me, let's see them dance the woman's part first."

That prompted a different woman named Loretta to speak up.  In a half-teasing, half-serious voice, Loretta turned to me and said, "Yeah, that goes for you too, Rick.  You're the worst offender.  You pick on me all the time.  If you're so smart, let's see you do the girl's part."

Instantly everyone in the room turned to see how I would deal with the challenge.  Although this conversation was being conducted in jest, maybe Loretta's challenge could work to my advantage.  This seemed like a good time to demonstrate why I was the teacher and they were the students.  Noticing Jim over in the corner, this was the perfect opportunity.  

First I put on Jim's favorite Waltz tune.  Then I beckoned to him.  "Come on, Jim, let's show them what we can do!"

To the undying amusement of my students, Jim proceeded to take me for two laps around the floor.  I was no Ginger Rogers, but I did a credible job.  We were both grinning when we finished.  As I hoped, the class was impressed, not just with me, but Jim as well.  After the laughter and applause died down, someone asked me how I learned to dance like a girl.  I was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt.  Should I tell the truth?  That's when I noticed Jim watching me with a very curious expression.  Feeling sheepish, I decided to confess.

"Last summer Jim's dance partner Gloria could not make her private lesson, so I had to step in and dance as a Follow.  This is terrible to admit, but I was drunk out of my mind at the time.  To my surprise, in an odd way it helped.  I learned more about dancing the woman's part in that hour than I had learned in my entire career to date.  In addition, I learned that I cannot drink and teach at the same time.  You have my word I will NEVER do that again." 

That is when I noticed Jim had the biggest grin on his face.  Oh darn, he knew!!  Curious, I wanted his impression.

"Hey, Jim, I have a question.  Did you know I was drunk that day?"

"Of course I did."

"How did you know?  I deliberately kept my mouth shut."

"That was my first clue.  When you didn't criticize me for anything, obviously there was something wrong with you."

Ouch!  The class convulsed at that remark.

"What was your second clue?"

"You accidentally complimented me at the end of the hour.  That was the only time you have ever said something nice."

That brought the house down.

Jim was teasing me about never saying anything nice.  As a rule, I tend to be very complimentary and the class knew it.  Nevertheless they loved watching Jim give me a hard time.  That was a special moment not just for Jim and me, but for the whole class.  Now that the students realized they could tease me as much as I teased them, the bond between us served to increase the laughter.  I might add that Jim acquired a special status.  Known as the guy who put the smug teacher in his place, Jim was treated like a champion.  Watching how much Jim enjoyed the well-meaning praise, I had a secret smile.  Knowing full well how shy Jim was, Gloria would have been proud of his emergence. 

On a side note, I learned my lesson about drinking.  The Halloween from Hell party was the only time I ever drank at a party.  And the Drunk as a Skunk episode remains the one and only time I ever drank before a dance class. 

And what about Jim?  He was more than a student, he was my friend.  Jim was such a nice man.  There was a warmth and decency about him that impressed me so much.  However, due to our significant 30 year age difference, I was reluctant to ask him much about himself.  I thought that would be an invasion of privacy.  Consequently I knew little about him other than what I observed.  I noticed that Jim never flirted with the various women he danced with.  Never with Gloria, not with other women.  Every guy in the dance crowd was tripping over his feet looking for love, but not Jim.  He always remained the perfect gentleman.  I wondered if he was gay, but doubted it.  I mean, if Jim was gay, he certainly wasn't interested in me.  And how could any man resist me?  (just kidding) 

There was an older woman in our group class named Carmen.  She liked Jim and said she was interested in him.  Carmen asked if he was available.  I replied I did not know, but that I would ask.  Curious, the next time I saw him, I asked Jim a question.

"Jim, do you ever date any of the ladies you dance with?"

"Oh, heaven's no, I'm married."

My jaw dropped to the floor.  Married?  After three years together, why didn't I already know this?

"You're married?  Really?  I had no idea.  You don't wear a ring.  So why doesn't your wife join you?  I thought women love to dance."

"My wife suffers from dementia.  Half the time she doesn't remember who I am."

Bam!  That revelation hit with the force of TNT.  Boy, I walked right into that one.  Tears welled up in my eyes and I apologized profusely.  "Jim, I'm so sorry..."

Jim put up his hand to stop me.  Seeing the agonized look on my face, Jim said, "You don't need to apologize, I am not offended.  How were you supposed to know?  This is not something I like to talk about, but I assume you can keep a secret.  I don't wear my ring because I don't want anyone to ask where my wife is.  The fact of the matter is that I dance because I am lonely.  You have no idea how much your studio has helped me deal with my pain and loneliness.  That includes you.  You have been such a good friend to me."

I didn't want Jim to see my tears, but I couldn't help myself.  Jim's story really affected me, so I had to wipe my tears away.  I cannot even begin to explain how much my admiration for this kind man grew.  In that instant, I got it.  Both of us had turned to dance to deal with our loneliness.  No wonder I felt so close to him.  I gave Jim a hug, something I had never done before with any student male or female.  I admired him so much for his kindness and his decency.  Plus how hard he tried to become a good dancer. 

I am so glad to know Jim Barrett considered me his friend.  He was one of the countless reasons I was grateful that God had given me this role.