Tango in Los Angeles from Sunday through Tuesday
I danced tango in Los Angeles everyday while I was there. Every night was different and held its beauty. On Sunday, I went to a practica that was almost empty. I worked on my adornments and walk. Then an experienced leader showed up and we danced for almost one hour. The dancing room was located in a hostel in Santa Monica. A nice old house that seemed to have been renovated recently. It was so hot in there that I got a blister and had to stop dancing to go somewhere to buy band-aids.
Then I headed to the outdoor milonga on 3rd Street Promenade, which was fun. It was actually packed and people stopped to watch us dancing. They applauded. The audience smiled. As the sunset approached on the Pacific Highway, hiding behind the mountains, a cold and unfriendly evening approached. People were still out. I sat on the street for a few minutes to watch the dancing as my stomach growled and complained about the fact that I haven't had lunch yet.
On Monday, I had been told to go to El Divo. A milonga located in Santa Monica. It was nice, but I didn't like the fact that the lady who was sitting at my table was constantly finding me dance partners. I hate these randoms acts of mercy. I was fine just watching. I did manage to get a good number of dances that weren't necessarily good, but made me practice.
Tuesday was a very good tango night. I went to a practica on 3rd Street in a neighborhood that I knew very well. A few years ago, I took an internship in a medical library a few blocks from the tango place. Looking back, I think this was my best practica while in Los Angeles. It had a little bit of everything. I had good dances with nice people, bad dances with nice people. It had a bad conversation with someone I met at Il Divo. Then at the end of the night, I danced with this guy I am going to call Mr. Shorty. I don't remember having danced like this ever before. It was our first tanda and the music was vibrant and rhythmic. The room was hot and I was way too tired not to trust him. I think he perceived that and took advantage of that and we danced like old partners who know each other. I let him lead me and I felt like I was performing. People told him that they had never seen him dancing that way before. People told me I am ready to perform. This great tango dancer (who actually people confused with me or me with her) from there kept an eye on us, I was later told. It was my last tanda and I went to my hotel tired and happy.
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