Second Tango explores the idea that a jerk can be a visionary, can do nice things for people and can make a positive difference even as wolves nip at his heels.
Second Tango features a retired arts center manager who risks his life savings to open a dance theater to avoid an early death from boredom. It is the story of a visionary who would deny his importance and the people who believe in his vision even more than he does. His goal is not to change the world, but to make his self-centered world slightly less lonely.
Drew Barnett has a history of abusing employees, taking advantage of friends and not getting along with his family. As he faces the prospect of a sedentary retirement, in an impulse, he decides to reclaim an abandoned movie theater in a run-down shopping mall and turn it into a dance theater and night club catering to middle aged women. He recruits and mentors his staff from the out-of-work friends he has met at the fitness center. He leans on his professional associates for guidance and assistance as he powers through the construction and opening of the project.
As Drew travels the long road toward opening, he pulls along a host of people, lifting them onto the rushing tempest he has become. Still, he has not done this for them. It is his storm and he is riding it. They can come as long as they work.
Drew’s juggernaut runs afoul of a corrupt politician who threatens the project. Drew is a jerk and he knows it. Using the tools he knows well, he rolls over the politician and drives toward the venue’s grand opening when, at the moment of his success, the politician reaches up to drag Drew down.
Excerpt
A morbidly obese man attempted to stand from behind his desk when Drew was ushered into the mall manager’s office. Serious case of fat-itude. Drew looked at the computer on the credenza behind the desk. A day trading site was up on the screen. Lazy fat-assed fat-itude. Something-for-nothing fucking bullshit fat-itude. Drew had a deep-seated, long-standing hatred of day trading. In his mind, it was a manifestation of the degenerative disorder plaguing the American society’s financial health. Seeing the site instantly inspired an aggressively hostile opinion of this flaccid florid rubicund porker before either had said a word. Drew’s opinions on both obesity and day trading bordered on radical fanaticism, and he almost let them dominate him. To have this monstrosity exhibit both was almost more than he could abide. Drew carried a few extra pounds, mostly in his gut, but if this guy lost half of his current corpulent body, he would still be overweight. He wondered if the tubbo could even take a shit in a public restroom without breaking the stall door or the toilet. Drew would need to give serious consideration to the size of the toilets in the project he was contemplating. A few of his potential clients could be this large, though he hoped not. Still, business was business and one did not turn down a paying customer over their girth, although the thought of a person as fat as this one on the dance floor did set Drew back for a few seconds.
They shook hands and the mall manager fell back into his chair gasping and wheezing while motioning for Drew to sit. A quick examination of the day trading site on the computer only aggravated Drew’s animosity for this lard butt he had only just met and who had not said a word. The mall manager pulled a single serving size package of cheese from a bag under his desk. I’ll bet you sit there and fart all day, too. Is that why I smell so much air-freshener? The mall manager, to whom Drew had already applied the moniker “Chunky,” offered one to Drew who refused it, still full from lunch. Chunky took the wrapper off the cheese, carefully flexing his think fingers to rip the serrated edge of the package, and popped the entire thing in his mouth before returning his attention to Drew.
“What brings you to my office?”
No introduction, no pleasantries, no small talk. Not even slowing down long enough to taste what he is eating.
“I was thinking of renting and renovating the old movie theater and turning it into an entertainment venue.”
“You mean like a strip club?”
“No,” Drew answered quickly. His low opinion of the man sank even lower. Drew was stunned that anything could lower his opinion of this sorry specimen of humanity. Probably the only way you’d ever get close to a woman, Chunky. Is your dick as fat as the rest of you?
“Too bad.” The mall manager took a long haul on the straw in his oversized, convenience store soft drink. “I’d like a strip club; piss off the people in that church down the street always clogging up my parking lot. What kind of entertainment?”
Drew shook his head before he answered. This man was hard to believe. “Concerts and dancing.” The concept had morphed in the interval between leaving the mall and Drew’s arrival at the office.
“I’ll need to get approval from the owners. Come back in a week.”
Drew was not about to let this gaseous pockmarked bulbous quivering piece of shit sit in his way. Drew doubted that the tubbo could stand in his way without falling over, but he could sit there farting and making ugly faces, showing his yellowing and misshapen teeth.
Dozens of Frequently Asked Questions regarding Pathological Narcissism, relationships with abusive narcissists, and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
The e-book version of Sam Vaknin's "Malignant Self - Love - Narcissism Revisited". Contains the entire text: essays, frequently asked questions and
appendices regarding pathological narcissism and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).
Dozens of Frequently Asked Questions regarding Pathological Narcissism, relationships with abusive narcissists, and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
