I lost my pants and I lost my whip!

No, this is not fiction, and for those who know something about me, it’s not even all that bizarre. And actually, the story is much less interesting when told than the title would suggest…which conjures up some alternative S&M sexual encounter. And I won’t bother even trying to write a pretend scenario for it may uncover too many embarrassing and or latent fantasies ……hummmm. Ok, to the boring truth.

December 3^rd, 2011 was the day of the Divino Ritmo third annual Showcase which included a student dance performances as well as a professional show. I was first on the schedule to perform arguably my worst dance, the Viennese Waltz. My dance instructor, Yanna Samkova, selected the music. Oh What a Beautiful Morning…..theme of the musical Oklahoma, an upbeat song, which is totally out of character for me, grumpy as I am as a New Yorker, set in my ways, street smart, but clearly uncomfortable out of the city where the buffalo roam. Indeed, I am truly more at home in the decadence of the city, dirty as it may be, even with the risk of being robbed or mugged by another human, or being overwhelmed by the smog and traffic, or annoyed by the crowds and lines. My point is that it was a stretch to cast me for the part of a happy cowboy, dressed for the part and dancing my “suckiest” dance, the Viennese waltz.

To make the rest of this dreadful tale unfold, a whip was used as part of the dance routine…. I purchased this fake whip from a local costume shop, it was actually not a bad replica, but it was made of light rope that did not sting at it contacted human flesh at a reasonable velocity. Now I’m sure that anyone really interested in wanting to see this ghastly performance…actually I was pretty happy with myself; the mistakes were minor and it went reasonably well….can see it eventually since it was taped. Getting back; during the rehearsal in the afternoon of the Showcase, the lights were dimmed and the whip was tossed to the ground several times during the routine, making it easy to forget it after the practice. Relieved that I was now free to go home and rest, I forgot to collect it. It was only when I was on my way home that I realized that I had lost track of my whip…………which completes the explanation for the second half of the title above. Of course, my friend, Marie Laderta, came to my rescue and found the whip, protecting it for me until the evening performance.

The evening came and I left for the Showcase in my favorite black pin striped suit toting a bag ladies dream of several large bags filled to capacity with stuff; my cowboy outfit, my dance shoes and various other accoutrements. I wore one of my British ties and a white dance shirt…I was all spiffy but it was short-lived because as assigned as the first performance on the program, I needed to get ready immediately after dinner. After my performance and those of the other student’s and professional show and all, I decided to remain in my cowboy clothes, and not trouble myself by laboring back into my suit. The evening ended with me in my cowboy duds. It did not take too many glasses of wine to add to the fatigue, relief and decompression of the day, I left as early as humanly possible knowing I had to go home and close up my house and get ready for an early morning flight out of the country. Getting back to the car was a bit of a chore; the two bags were not my only challenge; I needed to lug my suit, shirt, tie and do so with respect to maintain the integrity of the suit. I got to my car and was relieved to still find it there….i parked across the crowded street in the Royal Hawaiian Shopping center because it was easier to get to navigate on a heavily congested Waikiki street. I unloaded the mess of bags and suit and when I arrived home, my suit jacket was here lonely on its hanger but somehow the suit trousers had ostensibly slipped off the smooth metal cross bridge of the hanger during my transit since it was nowhere to be found….oh, oh……. the pain of that discovery. It was already near midnight, going back to look for the trousers I felt was a lost cause, and so my only recourse was calling the hotel and the parking structure to admit that I had lost my pants and to ask them for help. And so finally, this is how I lost my pants on the day that I lost my whip.

But the story ends with a happy note. The security officer who fielded my call at the Sheraton was initially sympathetic but had nothing to report from the lost and found…he agreed to take my name and email address. Then, at 5:00AM, an email came from the same security guard, William Boyer, that while on patrol, he found my pants in the lobby near the outside valet stand. Wow, what luck! And guess whom I’m asking to help me as I write this tale 35,000 feet in the air on my way across the world. Yes, once again, Marie is being asked to help her friend. God only knows if she is now reconsidering her status as my friend with this latest example of human incompetence.

Postscript. A few snippets to chew on. The Showcase was outstanding, the performances were excellent and very entertaining, and most everyone I talked to was very happy with the result. I had fun myself at a table of friends and had some quality dances with my dance partners Emi (a memorable tango) and Sandy (a really moving quickstep), some of the ladies at the table and a small selection of other women who happened to catch my eye (with a notable salsa that was mixed with alcohol for good measure). That was great fun as was the evening’s festivities.