Because of a work commitment, I had to miss my usual class and practica last week. In the end my meeting finished earlier than expected but I was on the wrong side of town to make my class. Being buoyed up with tango enthusiasm though, I located a milonga that was only 10 minutes away from where I was and headed down, eager to meet some new people.
Unfortunately, this place appeared to be having an off night as far as I am concerned as I turned up to find 4 men and 20 (!!!) women! I must admit I was abit taken aback but hoped that it would improve as the night went on. Well I can recall a further 2 more men turning up before I left but … they came with 4 more women and one of this set were a couple who were dancing exclusively with each other. Oh dear!
So basically, I spent my entire night sitting on the sidelines until finally, just as I was thinking that I couldn’t take it anymore, I was asked to dance! I eagerly stood up and walked forwards. Now I probably should have been concentrating a bit more but my eye had been particularly caught by an elegant tanguera with amazing footwork and I had somehow missed this tanguero’s ‘dramatic’ style and subsequent subtle rejections by other tangueras. As soon, as we were in the embrace, he began heaving me around like I was a sack of potatoes. We swung around the dance floor (definitely inelegantly) and then finally when he decided that we had had enough of this race, he started to throw in heel flicks and ganchos right, left and centre! This pattern continued throughout the tanda and I was finding it increasing hard to follow (a possible hint to this leader, maybe?) but instead of slowing him down this seemed to agitate him further until during my final giro sidestep, he actually shot forwards and ‘kicked’ my foot. At that precise moment, the music ended (maybe he thought that was a grand finale?) and with great relief I limped off the dance floor, straight to the cloakroom where I ordered a taxi and slunk off home. I have learnt my lesson, desperation makes you blind.