The Amazing Randy Hits the Slopes

The Amazing Randy Hits the Slopes

An Unexpected Vacation

Randy Baumgardner drove his mid-sized rental car down Main Street on his way to work. The professional stage hypnotist was headed to an afternoon meeting with Bobby Arnstein, the owner of Bobby A's Socks Off, a mid-sized comedy/ supper club in Boulder, Colorado. He was due to take the stage that evening for the first show of a four-night stand and he needed to reacquaint himself with the club's facilities, meet with the light man to make sure that they would be on the same page during the performance, and say "Hi" to his old friend. The brown-haired performer, whose stage name was "The Amazing Randy," had been through the same mid-afternoon sound and light check routine hundreds of times.

Traffic was unusually heavy he thought to himself, for an early Monday afternoon. As the bumper-to- bumper traffic jam eased forward he could make out the lights of emergency vehicles a few blocks ahead of him. Cars were being re-routed away from whatever was going on up ahead. Randy resolved to park his rental Taurus on a side street and proceed the rest of the way on foot. Fifteen minutes later he joined the crowd who stood across the street from his destination. Socks Off had smoke coming out of the building. He recognized Bobby, who was standing off to one side, and went over to speak to the club owner.

"What happened, Bobby?" he asked.

"Oh, Hi, Randy," said the owner. "Electrical fire in the cellar. The club's not a total loss, but it'll be closed for at least a couple of weeks until we repair the damage and get the inspectors to sign off. Looks like you're out of a job, my friend."

"I'll survive, Bobby. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm afraid not, Randy."

"I can buy you a drink. Let's go get one."

The two men made their way down the street and ducked into a local tavern for a quick one. As they sat at the bar they caught up on a year's worth of small talk. "So, what do you do when something like this happens, Randy?" asked the club owner.

"It's happened a couple of times. Sometimes I stick around. Sometimes I press ahead to my next gig. It depends."

"Where's your next gig?"

"I open in Salt Lake City next Tuesday."

"Why don't you stick around for a while? Give yourself a few days' vacation, why don't you? Do you ski?"

"Never done it."

"No time to learn like the present. It's fun, Randy. You're in good shape. Tell you what, I can get you a good room at the Grand Hyatt in Vail. I know the manager very well and he owes me a couple of favors. I've sent a fair amount of business and even a few comedy acts his way. His kid got married at my club last year. A phone call will do it."

"I'm not sure..."

"Randy, I know what your schedule is like. You've stumbled into some temps trouve. Why not give yourself a break and try something new? I can set it up, soup to nuts, room, ski lessons and equipment with a single phone call. Let me do you a favor. God knows you've done plenty of favors for me over the years. Let me make the call. If you don't like it you can take off any time you want. You'll stay. Trust me. Everything's on me. You just pick up meals, bar bill and tips. What do you say?"

Randy took a long sip to finish his scotch, set the glass on the bar and said "Sure, Bobby. Thanks, I'm in. Next stop? The bunny hill. Let's have another quick one before I take off."

"Great. You made the right call. By this time next week, you'll be good enough to ski anywhere you want."

At the Hyatt

Randy walked to the reception desk and gave the desk attendant his name. Sure enough, Bobby had set him up in a smallish suite, perfect for his purposes. He had lessons and rentals all taken care of. The only things that Randy needed before he could hit the slopes were a parka, snowpants, and gloves. These, he purchased at the local ski shop.

Randy was middle-aged and in good physical, if not athletic condition. Nevertheless, by the time he managed to join the small group lining up for a first lesson, he realized that skiing was going to use muscles he rarely used. He was gonna be sore, but the hypnotist had already begun thinking about possibly hooking up with a snow bunny for drinks and a massage after his lessons.

Randy surveyed the slopes and he had to admit, it was a beautiful scene. Snowflakes gently sought the ground as folks of all ages came skiing down the hill, emerging out of the snowy mist like brightly colored dolls in a snow globe. Most skied confidently, but some were novices like Randy, tentatively snowplowing their way to a tortured stop before grabbing the rope tow to head back up the tiny novice hill for another run.

Eventually, Randy graduated into basic parallel skiing, which meant that he needed to ride the chairlift part way up the mountain before practicing his technique on the way back down. All-in-all, he did pretty well, falling a few times as he cut back and forth across the face of the slope to regulate his speed. Slowly the cuts became less and less severe and Randy became accustomed to the increase in speed. He got better and grew satisfied with his progress, deciding to take yet another lesson after lunch. The novice skier racked his skis and poles, hung up his ski pants, and made for the hotel dining room, foregoing the quick burger and Coke at the canteen in favor of a wider menu selection and access to alcohol.

A cute waitress took his drink order while Randy surveyed the menu. He chose the open-faced petite sirloin sandwich and fries to go along with his scotch on the rocks. The stage hypnotist slowly surveyed the ski lodge dining room, first giving himself a general idea of the lay of the land, before narrowing his focus to scrutinizing the young women, trying to decide who he'd approach for feminine company later on.

It was a lot like being at the beach, he thought, except that tanned bikini bodies left little to the imagination and "snow bunnies" were usually dressed from head to toe. Once they were out of their snow pants and parkas their tight-fitting ski pants and soft fuzzy sweaters revealed bodies which, by and large, were carefully sculpted in gyms all over the country only to be shown off on the slopes and in smoky ski lodges, backlit by roaring fires.

There were several beautiful women in the dining room. Many were accompanied by boyfriends or husbands, but just as many were there with girlfriends, congregating in small groups over drinks and light lunches. Randy resolved to leave companion selection until "Happy Hour." He wanted to get back out on the slopes. Bobby was right. Skiing was fun.

After another hour's lesson, Randy felt competent enough to maybe tackle some intermediate slopes by himself. He elected to stay on the green dots, at least for the rest of the day. As he tried one green dot trail after another, he began to examine skiing critically. He saw that, like most sports, basic skiing was not particularly difficult to do. After two lessons he had mastered fundamental parallel skiing technique well enough to try some of the steeper beginner's level slopes on his own, and with success. Randy continued to cut the steeper slopes severely, working on his turning technique and falling a few times, but eventually, he opened-up and allowed himself to pick up speed.

Actual skiing prowess, however, was another matter. As he made his way to the bottom other skiers blasted past him at high speed, sometimes coming close, too close, to the struggling first-timer. It made him nervous, but he knew that the likelihood of an advanced skier colliding with him was tiny. It was far more likely that he would lose control and run into somebody himself. He kept his distance as he completed five more runs before calling it a day.

Tired, but not exhausted, the vacationing hypnotist returned his rental equipment and trudged back to his room where he took a quick shower and then laid on the bed taking stock of his day so far. It had been a good day. He'd learned how to ski well enough so that he felt that he didn't need another lesson, at least not right away. Tomorrow he'd hit the slopes alone and work on his technique, try some different trails and maybe take another lesson in the afternoon.

Apres Ski

After putting on a sweater and jeans, Randy made his way down to the lounge to have a drink and continue to scout for ski bunnies, at least one of whom he knew, would be sharing his bed that night.

Despite his unremarkable appearance, Randy, "The World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist," had slept with literally hundreds of women over his seventeen-year stage career. Randy Baumgardner had a secret, one he could never reveal to anyone, a secret which allowed him pretty much his choice of female companionship no matter where he was, no matter what the circumstances.

Randy Baumgardner was the greatest hypnotist who had ever lived.

Ever since his senior year in high school, Randy had possessed the ability to control the thoughts and actions of any person whose skin he could touch directly. He had no magical coins, amulets, or rings; he didn't need them. He didn't know the source of his special power. One minute he was a normal high school kid; the next minute he was a normal high school kid who could read the thoughts and control the actions of anyone he met.

Randy Baumgardner, a more or less typical teenager, unremarkable in every way except wit and intellect, which he had in abundance, had just accepted an offer to become the lead guide at his high school's modest planetarium. As soon as he'd shaken his teacher's hand to cement the deal, Randy knew that he could read his favorite teacher's thoughts. Just like that. No flashes of light or rumbles of thunder, just instant insight.

It was like his head contained a radio switched to the "on" position, already perfectly tuned to the thoughts of the people he touched. In just a few seconds, The Amazing Randy could probe as deeply as he wanted. No secrets were safe from his inspection.

Additionally, he had the ability to induce the people he had touched to do anything he commanded them to do. Stand up. Sit down. Take off your hat. Quack like a duck. Take off your panties. Nobody on Earth could say "No" to Randy.

For almost two decades Randy had somehow managed both to control his use of his power and to keep its existence secret from the rest of the world. Where others might not have been capable of resisting its seductive nature, from the very beginning Randy and his parents, carnival workers, had addressed the dangers inherent in such a gift, and the responsibilities associated with its possession.

Randy had worked out an excellent compromise by which he could both use and conceal his power at the same time. He created "The Amazing Randy, The World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist" and took the act on the road where it had been for seventeen years, two on the carnival circuit, and the rest on the small-city supper club circuit.

Randy eschewed ostentation. He loved the simple life. Over the years he'd accumulated a small fortune, enough to buy lakefront property in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. He literally had everything he wanted including what could only be described as an absolutely astounding sex life.

Randy could have sex with just about any woman he fancied whenever he wanted, but he never forced anyone to do anything they did not want to do. That was the beauty of his power. He didn't have to. Not only did his hypnotic ability enable him to seduce any woman he wanted, but it enabled him to learn which women were amenable to seduction in the first place. "False starts" were exceedingly rare for "The Amazing Randy."

The master hypnotist's hectic work and travel schedule simply did not allow long-term relationships to develop so his "love life" consisted of one or sometimes two-night stands, one after another, as many and as often as he wanted.

And here he was, sipping scotch, in a Vail ski lodge surveying a smoky room full of attractive women, like a lion lazing in the tall savanna grass, considering tonight's menu while it was still on the hoof.

Oh My God, Mike Is That You?

After taking his time to assess the room, including potential competition from other, younger lions, Randy's attention settled on a group of young women sitting on the couch directly in front of one of three giant fireplaces in the lodge. Although he'd only had glimpses of the group, the two who had gotten up off the couch to travel to the "little girls' room," were not only pretty, but stand-outs in the "sweater competition" as well. He watched as first one group of young men and then another approached, made their pitch and were rebuffed. Randy had worked this same problem dozens of times in the past. He needed to break the ice and get one of the women to invite him to join the group. Once he was at the table, he would be able to select one or even all four of the attractive twenty-somethings to join him in his suite, assuming, of course, that a quick probe revealed no obvious reasons to move on to other potential lovers.

The Amazing Randy positively avoided women in existing relationships, especially married women, and women with deep psychological trauma. It never ceased to amaze him how many young women, so beautiful on the outside, were troubled, sometimes deeply so, inside. Before he could assess his choice, he would have to get near enough to touch her, bare skin-to-skin and discretely of course.

He decided to use a ruse that he had employed a few times in the past. Randy went to the bar, took out a hundred-dollar bill, and asked the bartender for a serving towel. He asked the bartender to prepare drinks for the table and carefully placed the new rounds on a waiter's tray while he adjusted his bar towel and approached the couch from behind. One of the girls asked him who had ordered the drinks. He replied that they were ordered by a man at the bar. All four of the women turned to look for their mysterious benefactor.

"Oh my God, is that you, Mike?" blurted one of the girls. Randy recognized her immediately as the gardener he had met while playing a private gig at the Playboy Mansion. Her name was Michelle. "Mike" was the alias Randy had assumed as he wandered the grounds during the daytime while he waited to perform at night as "The Amazing Randy" for the other guests at the Mansion.

"Michelle, it's so good to see you."

"What are you doing here, Mike?"

"The same thing you are. I'm on vacation here for a week, well, at least until next Sunday. A friend of mine convinced me to give learning how to ski a try."

"Now, who has the Mojito?" Randy distributed the drinks to the rest of the ski bunnies. "Mind if I join you for a while, maybe catch up a bit?"

"Are you kidding? Of course not, Mike. Please join us. What's up with the bartender routine?"

"Chele," laughed a statuesque Nubian beauty, "he was trying to pick one of us up."

"Technically, that's not true," said Randy/Mike.

"How so?" asked the black beauty.

"Well..." said the master hypnotist, "I've been watching a lot of guys taking a shot but crashing and burning. It must be quite a rush for you ladies to know that you hold all the cards. I know that Michelle is Playmate of the Year. I also know that you are last year's Miss August and that your name is 'Althea'. I suspect that you two may each have a month attached to your name, but I'm not sure."

A beautiful dark-haired and olive-skinned member of the group said "So this is the famous 'Mike' you've been refusing to talk about for the last two years. Is he, 'Chele?"

"Huh?" asked the hypnotist as he feigned surprise, having already figured out that the woman doing the talking was Antonia, Michelle's gardening partner. "What?"

The final beauty to join the conversation was a very young-looking woman with short dirty blonde hair and freckles who introduced herself as 'Patty.' "You're half-right, Mike. That's Antonia...

"Michelle's gardening partner," said Randy.

"That's right," said Patty. "We're here to do a photo-shoot. I'm going to be Miss March. We just decided to come a week early for a vacation and to do some skiing. Do you ski, Mike?"

"Do I ski? Do I ski, you ask? I'll have you know that this very day I mastered the bunny hill," he said laughing out loud. He extended his hand. "Let's do a group handshake shall we? Here, take my hand and we'll do four shakes at once, Musketeer-style. That way I can get back to telling you about how brave I was on the slopes today."

Once Randy had firm hold of all four hands he spoke softly. "Each of you will obey me completely until I release you. Nod your head if you understand and agree." Four beautiful heads bobbed up and down. "Good. No matter what, none of you will raise your voice or otherwise call attention to us. You will answer any and all questions I ask truthfully." Randy released their hands and said, "Well now let's just sit here and talk for a while, shall we? Are any of you ladies expecting gentlemen callers tonight?"

"Mike," said Michelle, "we have been doing nothing but receiving 'gentlemen callers' since we sat down here. You yourself made an uninvited approach."

"Ouch," said the master hypnotist.

Michelle wound both her arms around Randy's left arm and gave it a gentle tug while she laughed. "Not you, Mike. You know how glad I am to see you. I just couldn't resist."

"Well, ladies, why don't you let me in on your plans for tonight?"

Patti smiled and said, "Well, Mike, before you showed-up we were going to hang around here for a while and then go out to dinner before coming back and doing some dancing. You never know, somebody might get lucky. We're all unattached."

"And I've somehow changed things, have I?"

Michelle gave his arm another squeeze. "Oh yeah, Mike. You have complicated matters quite a bit."

"How so?"

"Mike, you do understand that when we're alone with each other, us girls talk about you guys, right?"

"I suspected that that might be true."

Antonia interjected. 'Well since you showed-up at the Mansion, we've all heard the story of this mysterious guy named 'Mike' who stayed a few days at the Mansion and became Michelle here's 'good luck charm.' The day after you left, Hef told 'Chele that she would be the next Playmate of the Month."

"And you think that I somehow had something to do with that?"

"Mike, until this afternoon, Michelle refused to even discuss you. She wouldn't even confirm that Mike was, in fact, your name. Not sure why she kept you entirely to herself... but we know that you have something to do with the smile on her face right now. You made quite an impression on Michelle, Mike."

"So did she, Antonia. So do you all. This is pretty much a high point for me, as you might expect."

"Well, Mike, we're changing plans right now, on the fly so to speak. The three of us are going to excuse ourselves and head back to our rooms. That's going to give you and Michelle time to, uh, catch up. Maybe we'll bump into you two later on. There's live music at the Double Diamond upstairs starting at nine o'clock."

"Maybe tomorrow we'll see you on the slopes."

"Yeah," said Randy. "I'll be the one face down on the side of the trail. You guys are all good skiers, I'll bet. Tell the truth."

"We are, Mike, but if you're nice we might be able to show you a thing or two. We're all excellent skiers. How long are you here for, Mike?"

"I'm out of here mid -day on Sunday. How about you ladies?"

"The shoot starts on Monday."

"I guess I have a lot to learn... and from such lovely teachers."

Patty, Antonia, and Althea got up and left the couch. Randy/Mike adjusted his position and turned to look at the beautiful blonde with the emerald-green eyes. In a single seamless motion Michelle's hands positioned themselves on either side of the master hypnotist's head and drew his lips to her own bestowing a kiss which was impossible to misinterpret. It was a lover's kiss.