I’ve been feeling pretty confident within myself and my dancing and was looking forwards to my Saturday night milonga. It’s quite a large event and so although I know lots of people by sight, the night tends to be clusters of people scattered around the dance floor. I had been dancing well and was just taking a small break when suddenly my friend comically raised her eyebrows and gestured for me to turn around. Behind us was one of the Brilliant Dancers. He has always been pleasant enough to me and I’d danced with him once before when I had been quite new but he had never asked me since.
I nervously swallowed the cake I was eating (why now of all times was I eating?!) and smiled at him as he asked me to dance. I got up and followed him to the dance floor all the time conscious of my friends beaming at me. I was thrilled but then as we started dancing I got nervous and then these nerves grew and then suddenly it was no longer Golondrina on the dance floor but a ball of nerves and hundreds of questions and doubts – why had he asked me to dance? Was I finally good enough? What did that mean? God, I hope I can follow him after all this. What if he throws in a tricky move? — and that was it. I had lost it. After what felt like the longest tanda ever, he returned me to seat and I collapsed, drained.
My friends have assured me it was not as bad as I'm making out but I can honestly write here how gutting the experience has been. Why did all of my tango knowledge leave me at that precise moment? I guess the real test will be to see if he ever asks to dance again. Fingers crossed!
On social maleness
11 hours ago