Last Friday the neighbors offered to look after the kids while we went out on a date. I had looked after their three boys the weekend before and they wanted to repay me. Cate and I wracked our brains for something to do with our first night out alone in months. We didn't just want to go to a pub or a movie, both of which would have been fun, but not terribly special. Finally, late Friday afternoon, on the most whimiscal of whims we decided to take a tango class.
Cate spied a poster in a cafe for a special class that night on a form of Argentine tango called Close Embrace and it sounded like fun in a lot of ways. It was really enjoyable, but fun isn't exactly the right word. We were the only rank amateurs in the crowd -- although everyone was very helpful and welcoming -- and were both very nervous.
We didn't actually learn any steps or moves, which was a dissapointment. The class was designed to be the first of 6 workshops, so actual dancing didn't occur until some other day. We mostly learned how to walk in a straight line with our eyes closed. Which is certainly useful and bestows some tangible satisfaction when it is perfected. That alone would have been worth the price of admission.
I'm serious, mostly.
The second hour was devoted to learning to "invite your partner into the close embrace" of the dance, how to stand, where to put your chin and hands, how to walk in a straight line with a woman tightly pressing her breasts against you, how to elegantly set her back on her centre of gravity when the song is over, and how to not get too distracted while doing all of the above. Oh and the teacher insisted that we switch partners every other song or so and that we never dance with someone we know.
The grand-finale/final-exam was that everyone stood in two concentric circles, leaders on the outside, followers on the inside circle. First the followers had to close their eyes and random leaders would approach them, invite them silently into the embrace, rock rythmically side to side, then set her back on her balance. After approaching half a dozen strangers in this manner, I was sort of getting the hang of it. Then the leaders had to close their eyes and the followers moved around the circle.
Let me tell you, it is rather tricky inviting a stranger into a formal embrace when you have no notion of height, body type, etc. Personal space isn't an issue because there is none in this dance. Some worked out very well -- one guy, Peter, chalked it up to chemistry -- some were like dancing with your annoying aunt. Some were a mixture of both.
When the last woman approached me, it seemed to be going well. I could feel her approach, when I made myself taller (Tango-ki, nach!) she moved into the embrace on cue and then she leaned in... and turned out to be about a foot taller than me and was wearing a very low-cut dance shirt. I was rather startled, and not entirely in unpleasant ways, when I felt soft skin on my cheek when she leaned in. Of course I immediately forgot how to concentrate. Luckily there was enough chemistry to carry me through and it didn't go too badly.
It was a rather classic movie moment -- comedy, not romance -- when the music stopped and the teacher told us to open our eyes. The awkward thank-yous followed by a quick, embarassed escape by both of us was rather funny. I hope that she saw the humour in it too. Probably. She was wearing a dance shirt, so she probably knew what she was signing up for.
Cheers
PS. It occurs to me, as things often do when I finally write them down, that she had her eyes open so the placement of her chest was not at all a shock or surprise to her. That makes me feel a bit better, I guess. Almost flattered.
