She: I remember when I moved to Austin, I looked for a dance studio to attend. I tried the local salsa studio, and you were the first person to talk to me when I came in.
me: Well, yeah. Have you ever heard of the Five Second Rule?
She: Sure. That rule states that if you drop food on the floor, you have five seconds to pick it up, or else it gets cooties on it.
me: Correct. That's one of them. Another one states that when you see someone for the first time, and your head jerks around for a better look, you have five seconds to go talk to them. No hesitation, no self-doubt, on what ifs. Just go. If you hesitate, if fear, uncertainty and doubt overwhelm you, you can be sure you're a pathetic loser.
me: And so, when I first saw you enter the studio, I said to myself:
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
The other night at the One2One, while dancing with Maria, I stepped back with my right foot to open the door for a CBL. Just after I planted my foot, Marcelo, dancing behind me, stepped back with his left for an Open Break. His heel caught my foot high on the ankle.
( I know I was there first because my foot was on the bottom.)
As I steeled myself for a foot injury, he did not transfer his weight onto his heel. Instead, feeling my presence, he maintained his balance, stayed on his toes, and pushed off into a spin. His dancer’s awareness and athleticism saved my foot.
Monday, July 9, 2018
Viernes Sociales was hot like a mutherfucker. A heady mixture of estrogen and testosterone filled the air. At one point, Mariah got stepped on by a stiletto-clad heel. As I pressed ice on the swelling, three inch long gash on the top of her foot, I reassured her with the thought that she had just made a blood sacrifice to the salsa gods.
Thursday, June 14, 2018
Thursday, April 26, 2018
Monday, April 16, 2018
me: Hi! Where have you been? Haven't seen you in a while.
She: I've been busy.
me: Let me guess. It's either involves a car wreck or a boyfriend.
She: Neither. 6 months ago I started an intensive boot camp to become a certified dog trainer.
I just finished. Now I hate dogs.
Saturday, March 17, 2018
A couple of months ago, as I sat in my usual front row seat at the One2One waiting for the timba band to start, a young lady in her early twenties walked past me diagonally on the way to the ladies room. As she passed, I thought to myself: “There goes a dancer.” She walked like a cat.
Later, we danced. From previous experience, I knew that U.T. dance majors go out on the town, hit random clubs, and dance whatever dance they find there. She was one of those. She could do anything I asked of her, flawlessly, the first time. Amazing.
As the song ended, I dropped my most difficult move on her, ending in a cuddle, which she followed perfectly, and then blew her out into a triple inside spin. She returned to me, welcomed a hug with outstretched arms, and then walked into the night, without looking back. She walked like a cat.