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LETTER from PARIS Dancing the Night Away
LETTER from PARIS Dancing the Night Away
By John Sherman
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It was a late Saturday and our Ashby Inn diners were drifting toward the door. Some regulars were hanging on to the last drinks. Chatter stopped when two women, with husbands, appeared at the foot of the stairs. They wore matching Little-Bo-Peep dresses slit up the side with white socks and sparkles in their hair.
The couples were staying the night. A bottle of Veuve Clicquot was ordered. Turns out the two women were lawyers on a Congressional committee (where I once defended democracy) who had done a charity gig that night in Middleburg.
Edna Vaughn, whose long hours poolside accentuated her bleached blond hair and blue eyes which were always in a high state of merry, was not a shy, reserved woman. Zany might be a more apt description.
Although she was brought up in Winchester, her accent drifted well to the south. She could play the southern belle as well as Vivian Leigh, if she wanted. The drawl wrapped her stories in a kind of make believe. She also was arguably the funniest woman I ever met. At its core were telling of her own pratfalls.
One of my favorites: After reading a story in a woman’s magazine entitled “How to Tempt your Lover,” she laid an erratic trail of Hershey kisses from the front door, up the stairs, right to her boudoir, leaving nothing to the imagination. In the telling, when she heard the door open and close, she stretched out on the bed with one arm resting on pillows. The full Delilah.
She paid no attention to the muttering below. Her man took forever to reach the top of the stairs. She was poised. The door pushed open, with him standing there shaking his head. “Edna, what the hell is this?” he asked, stupefied, as he let a flutter shiny candy wrappers from his hand. “Jesus, the place is a mess.”
Turns out their lab, Hank, had beaten him to her come-on and was throwing up on a handsome Heriz rug.
In response to Edna’s obvious question about the two lawyers’ attire, the blond one, Emily, explained, “We’ve been doing this tap dance routine for some time. It gives us an excuse to travel to fun places and take a deduction. Our husbands like to come along for the hell of it.” Also lawyers.
Edna quickly followed, “Where are your shoes?”
"Right in this bag," answered the other performer, a brunette named Patty, pointing to a zip-up gym bag.
Edna asked them whether they could do their routine. The dancers, who were clearly flattered, shrugged their shoulders and unzipped the bag. Their husbands just rolled their eyes. Once their black patent leather shoes were tied, Emily clicked-clacked her way across the room and handed the bartender a cassette, which he exchanged for “Ella at Carnegie Hall.”
The song was predictably bouncy. A Gene Kelly "Singing in the Rain" rendition. The room didn't give them much space, but their act did not demand much. They began holding hands, and moving in unison back and forth, their faces bent forward, their smiles genuine. Clackity-clack. Clippity-clip. Up and down and across they moved, holding up their flaring skirts a la Ginger Rogers. The familiar tune ran on a bit past their repertoire.
No matter.
Edna had been transported. Her face turned girlish, eyes wide and mouth open, as if a pony had just arrived for Christmas.. Tap shoes. Metal on leather. Anyone could make the sound. It wasn't like ice skating. These two ordinary women (lawyers, yet) could do it. The moment the routine came to an end, Edna pushed out from her table and jumped up to applaud. Others in the room followed, but only politely.
“Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” Edna shrieked, ignoring her husband’s entreaties to head for home. “I want those shoes. I need them right now.”
Looking at Patty, Edna asked, “What size shoe do you wear?” It wouldn’t have mattered. Then came, “How much?”
“You can buy them on the internet,” Emily explained, defensively.
“No, I want those,” Edna said, as if they just came off Ginger Rogers, loaded with soft shoe routines. “I’ll pay you right now.”
The deal done, Edna. immediately put them on. She gave the toes a few taps. She was making the same sounds as Fred Astaire and the Hines brothers. She took to the floor, did a couple of toe and heel clicks with her right foot. She put her arms out, as if waiting for Gene Kelly, tapping with both feet. Thus began Edna’s dancing days. To be continued…
