Subject: Uno tango mas, the conclusion |
From: John Knefel <johnknefel@gmail.com> |
Date: 9/10/10, 11:26 |
To: John Knefel <johnknefel@gmail.com> |
So there I was, in the unlikely position of having to take dance lessons to try to reignite what was once a sordid love affair. I felt like more a middle-aged man trying to save his marriage, a position decidedly less sexy than holing up in an airport hotel for two hours.
Watching the honest-to-god professional Tango dancers for thirty minutes during the open-dance period before our class started instilled in me a fear so primal it defies description. Buenos Aires is the home of Tango. We were taking lessons with the best instructors in the city. I hadnt taken a dance class since my sophomore year of high school, during which we learned to Salsa dance by a fat white guy who had never been south of Missouri.