Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer.
Argentine Tango is not a martial art. It is not a contact sport. It is not combat. But it is inevitable that at some point someone is going to get hurt.
We’re not talking about a little tap on the toe, the knocking of a kneecap, or the bumping of an ankle, but a full on ‘penalty-kick’ on your partner’s unprotected piggies.
There is a short delay in the proceedings whilst the pain signal slithers its way up her leg, continues through the spinal cord, and reaches its
final destination in that part of the brain where hate resides.
During this brief period you may persuade yourself that you have gotten away with it, that perhaps it really wasn’t as bad as it felt, but the electrochemical demons complete their work and a fearful transformation takes place. Where once there were dreamy eyes, a far away gaze, or even a sleepy come to bed tease, there is now only a cold and icy stare. The only bed on offer is a hospital bed.
An experienced tanguera will quietly seethe, then sheathe her dagger of disdain. All will seem well, but you have glimpsed the darkness. It will gnaw at your confidence for the rest of the tanda. If you are lucky this is already the last song, but if you dance like me you have committed your faux-pas during the first .
You have two options. You can choose to shun the offending move for the rest of the evening, or you can follow my lead (if only she had, we wouldn’t be in this situation).
If something scares me I tend to run towards it rather than away from it.
I am scared of heights so I fly helicopters for a living. I am shy so I make a point of introducing myself first in social situations. I have just flattened a phalange and risk never dancing with its custodian again so I will go straight back and try it once more. This may be the triumph of optimism over experience, but I might just get it right this time.
Often you pull it off successfully (the move, not the toe), but if you commit a double-fault don’t be surprised to get a witheringly early ‘thankyou’. Your dance is over.
Elvis Parsley summed it up fittingly
Since my baby left me
I’ve got no place to go
I haven’t had a chance to dance
since I stood on her toe
You make me so lonely baby,
I get so lonely baby etc…
Glossary
Tanguera – lady dancer
Tanda – a short sequence of songs or tunes, normally three or four of similar style for the course of which you will remain with the same dance partner.