Excerpt from Chapter 1:

Marshall said he would leave my name at the security gate. I was looking forward to this job interview, and the opportunity to be tennis instructor at a resort in Tampa, Florida. Most of my instruction so far has been with parks and recreation, at private golf and racket clubs, as well as one-on-one personal instruction. A resort atmosphere like Paradise Lakes Resort would allow me a constant turnover of new tennis players and students of varying abilities. The resort atmosphere also tends to attract people willing to spend a lot of money on fun.

It was 1986, and I was 24 years old. Getting a job was my top priority, as I had just moved to Tampa from Ft. Lauderdale....

I had recently dropped out of the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh and was in recovery at the time from drugs and alcohol. I was several months clean and sober, and all the better for it.

In fact, that's how I came to get the coaching interview at Paradise Lakes. After sharing with my Alcoholics Anonymous group that I needed a job as soon as possible, a guy came up to me after the meeting and handed me Marshall’s business card.

“I know they recently lost their tennis pro, and there's an opening. Give Marshall a call.” he said....

Marshall’s instructions said turn left off North Dale Mabry Boulevard onto Brinson Road. Brinson was heavily wooded on both sides, but I was driving parallel to Mabry for about a mile or so. I noticed that this place was obviously tucked well back off the main road, not thinking anything of it at the moment.

A little ways up, I turned left again onto Paradise Lakes Boulevard, and I continued to drive deeper into what was obviously a quiet and secluded little village. When I reached the intersection of Paradise Lakes and Vista del Sol Circle, I realized there were, in fact, several secluded vacation spots hidden from view by the main road. Eventually I came to a small lake with a sign that said Paradise Lake. The road ended at a gate on the right, leading into a community of villas that lined the left side.

I gave my name at the gate and the guard waved me through. I could see the pool and tennis courts up ahead on the right, but I got distracted by what looked like two completely naked women walking along the road in front of the villas talking. I only got a glimpse before they turned into a corridor going into the villas.

I figured they must have been wearing nude-colored bathing clothes or something. I was trying to focus on where I was going, and only saw them for a moment. My eyes must have been playing tricks. maybe they thought no one would notice this far off the beaten path, but I’m not sure how - after all, they were casually strolling down the main road into the resort! I shrugged it off as no big deal; women go topless at beaches in South Florida all the time.  

I saw the tennis courts and pulled into a parking space in front of them. It was a large and sprawling layout, well landscaped with tropical flora and varying species of palm trees and bromeliads, just like all Florida resorts in those days. I got out of my car and walked along the sidewalk to the pool where there was a smoking grill with several whole chickens rotating deliciously on a rotisserie.

There was also a poolside snack bar. I didn’t see anyone at first but as I reached the counter, a woman poked her head up from behind the counter. “Can I help you?” she asked casually as she stood up, her full bare breasts and midriff exposed from behind the bar.

“Y-yes,” I stammered. “I have an appointment with Marshall.”

"Two doors down on the left," she pointed.

Okaaay then I mused. I walked down a short corridor and opened the door. A buck-naked woman, who I assumed was Marshall’s receptionist, stood up from her desk and asked again, somewhat provocatively this time, "How can I help you?"

I know it is hard to believe, but I still did not catch on to why no one had on any clothes. You'd understand if you knew me then. Maybe I was in one of those repetitive dream sequences where everyone, but you remembered to put on clothes that morning, only this one was in reverse, and I was the only one clothed.

“I'm here to see Marshall,” I said, suddenly terrified I may be about to see more of Marshall than I wanted!

She yelled, "Marshall!"

To my relief, Marshall walked out bare-chested, but wearing a pair of shorts.

“Hey old buddy,” he said putting out his hand to shake. “Apparently we have a mutual friend in AA.”

We exchanged niceties and then he came right out with the offer.

"If you want the tennis instructor’s job, it’s yours,” he said. “No salary. You are an independent contractor so you can charge whatever you like for lessons and keep all the money. We don’t take a commission. You can set your own hours and clothing is optional."

“I see,” I said. “Are there any other tennis instructors on the property?”

“No, we had one, but he disappeared,” Marshall said. “You’re it if you take the job.”

“Did he take his clothes with him when he left,” I asked.

“We don't know. He just never showed back up.”

I learned through sobriety to count every blessing. I needed a job, and now I had one, so I accepted.