I’ve never drunk alcohol at a milonga, partly because wine-breath doesn’t seem a great idea in a tango embrace, and partly because I have a finite quantity of coordination available even when stone cold sober.
But we had dinner with a couple of good friends last night, one of whom was a follower who hadn’t danced for a long time. So after way more wine than is reasonable between four people, she and I danced …
They say you should never watch a video of yourself dancing tango in the first year or two, and this seems excellent advice. Advice which didn’t stop Steph videoing us. And no, you can’t.
But I was amazed that after four people had polished off three bottles of excellent red between us, with Steph contributing nothing toward this sterling effort, only the footwork was embarrassing. My walking was less single track and more dual-carriageway, if not motorway. But my lead worked, my head was upright (something I’ve been working on with the help of a beanbag at home), my shoulders were relaxed, my left arm wasn’t trying to creep in toward my body, there was (simple) musical dance to unfamiliar music – and both my follower and I were smiling.
So I’m calling that an achievement unlocked. My first drunk tango, and, I would hazard, not my last.
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