Sunday, July 23, 2006

Fifteenth Lesson.

My ocho cortados are a disgrace. When I figure out that's what I need to do, I pull into the world's widest cross, where the ankles (which are supposed to be touching) are about four inches apart and I'm already desperately shifting my weight backwards.

This could not be a more dire situation, dancewise. First of all, I only understand the lead about 20% of the time; the rest of the time I look like a tap dancer trying to work it all out, which would be funny except I look bad, and that makes the leader look like an asshole.

I'm still tense in the shoulders, shockingly.

Last night some guy who was maybe 75 years old kept asking women to dance and then literally dragging them around, making them do the splits underneath him and throw their legs around his (substantial) waist. He was wearing a white suit that made him look like Colonel Sanders. Asshole.


1 comment:

miss tango in her eyes said...

That (splits) would cause a scandal here. You can´t do the showy tango moves unless it is 4am and hardly anyone on the dance floor. It is considered rude.