My last tango class, we learned a rather complicated step.
“Hey it’s me again.” my teacher said as he cut in front of my partner to show me the new step.
He tricked me that he was starting on the beat. “tsk tsk tsk, no no, wait for me.”
I was too focused on trying to remember the step I forgot the basic walk.
“Oh no. You’ve forgotten. Push me!”
I push back.
“You’re letting me push you around.” he says too matter-of-factly. This triggers something within me that resembles being pissed off and embarrassed.
“Let it ride baby! PUSH ME.”
I shoved into him and felt our arms change, as my weight fell more forward. We were in equal space now and I could feel him.
“There, finally!” Now remember the steps”.
Which I did somehow in all the excitement.
“Open your shoulders more when you take the swivel step and keep your feet together.” So I did. “Beautiful” he said.
I danced the entire class with my eyes closed. I truly felt…like I was feeling.
We ended the class with a sweetheart dance. (Ah sixth grade nerves all over again). The shy quiet guy in my class asked me to dance. We tried the new step over and over and then the previous ones from the beginning of class.
I left class all emotional in every good way possible.