Horsewomen

Last Saturday, Cienfuegos played at Central Market North. While I was there,
I danced with Illiana, who runs a horse stable north of Austin, where she offers
equine therapy for autistic children. It seems a special affinity exists between 

autistic children and horses. There are several equine therapy centers in the U.S.,
and Illiana, along with several other women, provide training seminars in cities
across the country. 

About half way through our dance, I leaned over and remarked: 

 “It must be hard for a horsewoman to be led around the dance floor like this.” 

She nodded yes, and replied:   “This is why I tell the other women at the stable 

they need to take dance lessons, so they can learn what being led feels like to a horse.”

San Antonio talent

San Antonio salseras have a certain look.  I've learned to spot it in the clubs.
They are more sophisticated in their dress than the more laid-back Austin
women. 

Last night, I spotted a San Antonio girl.  She looked like a beginner to me.
I asked her to dance.  On the way to the dance floor, I said:

"You're from San Antonio, aren't you."

She turned to me and said: "Yes, how'd you know?"

"Just a guess,"  I replied.

She said:  “I’m a beginner, so go easy on me.”

I said ok. We began with the basic step, and she was way too stiff and self-

conscious and contrived, but I could sense her talent.  

I said: “Honey, you have the look, and you have the talent, you just need

repetitions. Let me lead you. Relax, take a deep breath, and follow your hand.” 

She did, and we had a good time.  I hope to see her again.

The ex-wife

Last night, Estafan came into DNC and said :

“Geez, on the way here, MoPac was full of flashing lights and signs saying 

'Lanes Closed’ and ‘Do Not Enter’. It reminded me of my ex-wife.” 

I laughed, and said : “Yeah, the High Occupancy lane was closed.” 

 He nodded in agreement.

Madie

     The last time I was in L.A., I met Madelyn. Madie has become one of my 

favorite salsa partners. She is a tall, slender, athletic woman, with cascading 

raven hair and alabaster skin seemingly lit from within. Her tattoos are mostly 

hidden. Her piercing blue eyes look into and through you at the same time. 

Madie barely tolerates male leads, as she prefers choreographed solos to 

following half-assed leaders who fail to match her skill and experience. We have 

become friends over the last several months. She has opened up to me, and here 

is her story, as best as I can recall it.

     Madie was sexually abused, beginning at the age of eight, at the hands of the 

family priest. Her parents trusted Father Alphonso, and never suspected he was 

anything but a concerned, involved Catholic priest. He told Madie that just as 

the  Virgin Mary was an unwed teenager impregnated by an angel, their actions 

were acceptable in the eyes of God, and she went along with his demands the 

way she felt a good Catholic girl should. Later on in life, as she learned that such 

behavior was abhorrent to God, and not what Jesus had in mind when he said 

“Suffer the little children to come unto me”, she became justifiably angry and 

vowed revenge on men in general, and deviates in particular.

     In her twenties, Madie worked in the sex trade. She found a job as a 

Dominatrix in a Dungeon in L.A.  Professional dommes DO NOT have sex with 

their clients; they just dominate and humiliate them for money. When seeking to 

buy several hours of a relationship based on BDSM (bondage, discipline, sadism 

and masochism), the client will fill out a questionnaire and select what kind of 

humiliation they deserve.

      Madie recalled one client fondly. Steve, a first-timer, was in his thirties, red-

haired, overweight, and gay. He came in and filled out the questionnaire. He

chose verbal humiliation alone, with no bondage or physical pain. Since this

occurred early in her career as a domme, Madie wasn’t confident in her ability to

inflict purely verbal abuse, so she expressed her concerns to Sade, her more 

experienced colleague, and asked for tips on how best to fulfill her client’s needs.

Sade offered her this sage advice: 

 “You know how we talk about our clients behind their backs here in the

dressing room?” 

Madie nodded in agreement. 

     “Well, talk like that to his face.” 

Smiling, Madie put on her game face, entered her client's cell, and went to work.