Friday, May 15, 2009

T-A-N-G--Oh.

Things were going well. As well as can be expected. Knees were brushing, but nobody was stepping on anybody. I was, as I usually am, thinking-thinking-thinking about the dance steps, because if I really concentrate and pay attention and try really hard, sometimes it's awesome.

It sounds like sex when I put it that way.

Regardless.

We're going along, me and my oh-so-patient tango partner (American tango, I feel the need to point out -- this is not my favorite), and we're doing okay, and we get to the part where instead of doing four steps back and taking the "Oh" to the side, we go one back and then I come forward, over him.

Except I wasn't ready. And when my backward momentum was taken away from me, instead of following and doing something pretty, I froze and said, very clearly, rather loudly, "Oh, crap!"

My tango partner laughed and laughed. Then he said he was pretty sure there was no "Oh, crap!" in tango. He said he'd read it in a book somewhere.

Someday, I will learn to dance.

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