There are two types of Argentina men who are worth meeting in one’s life time - the sexy long haired football player and the old and ugly 70-year-old tango dancer. Since the world cup is starting in a couple of months, no footballers within my scope, why don’t we go and meet the old and ugly tango dancer tonight.Escorted by a friend who knows how to tango (two years of tango lessons under his belt), we ventured into a local Latino club where they alternate between various Latin dances. Half past ten, the small club was half packed. We found a little table against the wall, we put down our motorcycle helmets and quickly changed into our dance shoes. The helmet is an important detail, since I came on a motorcycle in some baggy jeans, that gives me the right to go to the bathroom and slip on my little red skirt.
My friend went to get us some drinks at the bar like a real gentleman, my eyes are completely glued to the dance floor, fascinated by how people dance. The crowd is rather mixed, people anywhere from 25 to 70 years old. Many look like regulars, they come in groups. I have always loved tango, it is so emotional and dramatic.
This is my first tango ball, I only had 2 lessons.
Before I had time to think what I was supposed to do to pull off this first ball, there is already a man in front of me inviting me to dance. “no, Ana, what are you doing!” I got up and whispered to his ears, “ I happen to be a beginner, but I am very willing…” he smiled and led me into the dance floor…
The tradition in a club is the following: tango dances are in groups of 3. Usually, men will invite women to dance, they dance 3 tangos without changing partners. If he leaves her before the end of the 3rd tango, it is considered rude; however, if he stays with her after the 3rd tango, it is considered INTERESTED.
This first one is not yet too difficult, I guess my partner just decided to walk the tango. I asked to leave and find my friend after the first tango before any further embarrassment.
Friend:
Let me give you some background information. In a tango club like this, there are only 4 types women: 1. beautiful women who dance well, once men find them, they will let them go; 2. ugly women who dance well, they have difficulty getting started, but once people see how they dance, they will do fine; 3. beautiful women who don’t dance well, they get invited fast by lots of people, after a while, it will be okay; 4. ugly women who don’t dance well, they should go home right away.
Ana: Thank you for the analysis, to satisfy my self-esteem, I got invited before you even got me a drink, which makes me the type 3 women, but now everyone knows how badly I dance, no one will invite me anymore.
Friend: The night just started.
Ana: Thank you for being here, you are a friend in need, a real friend indeed.
I took a big sip of my Perrier and stood up ready to conquer the dance floor, my friend had this naughty smile on his face, I had to add “your mission is to make me look like a real tango dancer”. “My honour, your majesty!”
I did the classic salida, ocho and followed by a slick boleo, except that boleo was slick enough to kick un unknown leg.
Friend: Easy Ana, you are not on the stage, it is a club!
Ana: I should get a mojito, that should help!
I suddenly caught a glimpse of the guy who asked me to dance the first tango, he was with a Japanese woman. Rice Cooker he is, not sure which model though. I have to say they dance a very Zen type of Tango, must be the rice and soy sauce thing.
As I was intrigued by all the little details of each couple on the dance floor, my friend drew my attention to this white hair tall Argentina man who just walked past us and sat down at the next table.
I then started follow his movements, a real good dancer and very skilful with women. He only dances with the best and the most beautiful. Women in his arms are just surrenders.
Before I knew it, he was dancing just in front my face, with the most sensual movements, the beautiful woman with her eyes closed. It was so close I didn’t know if I was supposed to focus on their legs or other parts of the figure. Music stopped, he was looking straight into my face, “how are you?”
As I smiled back politely, music started again, he danced away with his partner.
My friend commented in the background: “You are in!”
(to be continued)
