Sunday, January 17, 2016
In There
"It’s too bad you can’t de-install a wife," remarked
Clancy at his computer. Who had none, but liked the idea.
His point of reference was Carlotta, one of his
waitpersons, married twice and widowed the same.
First, Cardiac, second Big C.
“You can always give reasons for things, but she’s
a Fatal Woman! Archetype!” maintained my Host
at his Guinness tap.
My tour ending in Copenhagen, and I had hopped
over to Ireland to what I called The Repair Zone.
I do the lighting for music groups, last the Middling
Maniacs. Nothing was middling, especially the drugs.
As did Carlotta, I stood out. Being of Italian
extraction in my case, and Hungarian Gypsy in hers.
Back to the States for a series of one-night stands.
“Nostalgia Ninety Tour.” Nearly a year, and worn out.
Then to Clancy and Carlotta. Married! Would you believe?
“I decided to take a chance on her black magic. Got some
of me own!”
They did a lot of joking this way, and Carlotta claimed
of me: “Maybe thiz new man, he iz next!”
"Well, you gotta kill ME first, and that ain’t gonna happen!”
maintained Clancy.
What happened is that Carlotta, after I had taken an
assignment in Germany, died in an auto accident.
Clancy emailed as to always always having driven
her before!
When I got back there, the new staff member, Bridget,
had taken over. Literally. A bossy, if beautiful, redhead.
“Absolutely no romance!” she swore to everyone.
Clancy whispered that he was afraid of her.
But there was a romantic aspect. She danced after
closing time, solo. Usually enacting her previous life.
One night, Clancy was asked to join in, which he
did reluctantly. Playing her dead husband, an
American like me, helicopter pilot shot down
in Afghanistan.
The next time they danced, she acted out Carlotta!
He, her two husbands. They were very good, my
dancers, a rough draft of ballet.
“I’m quitting the dance racket!” laughed Clancy the
following evening. Or she’ll have ME be Carlotta!
I'm making up reasons to get out of the weirding
there, when a week later, she compels me to dance in
his place. But...warmer.
Well, story short. He takes me in as his partner after
she and I marry. She dances solo redhead, taking all
the parts. I’m too busy. When she plays me...!
Well, creepy.
By now, I’m bringing in small rock groups from all over
Europe, and lighting them. Business has tripled.
Bridget has taken over the management, and Clancy and
I are pretty much PR men, often traveling separately.
No more dancing for anyone!
But it’s in there.
Labels: dancing, Fatal Woman, lighting, pub, Rock, women
