We play a game at the pre-festival mixer milonga.  In exchange for a hard-to-come-by $5, cash only, exact change, the adorable spacey greeter handed me a card, number 3, blue – whatever.  Before each tanda, the host announces a rule.  Dance with the same color…  Blue dances with yellow…  Odd with even…  Odd with odd, even with even.   This adds to the chaos: the room is crowded, the dancers are still unsettled, still arriving, cabeceos scatter about, rarely reaching their targets.  I sit out some tandas, scoping out the scene.   I dance some tandas, hit or miss, odd or even.  That’s fine, I am still arriving.

I sit out.  I see you across the room and recognize you.  This is the first time I’ve seen you in my life.  Sort of. Continue reading “Hello There” →