Salsa Night!

Gather 'round, listeners! Such a tale I have for your virgin ears.

A tale of shimmying. Of shaking. Of tanned legs and short skirts.

Of Salsa Night.

A local bar/restaurant has a different dance nights: Salsa Night, Line Dancing, etc. Roomies and I decided to go for the Salsa one. Tuesday being the only night we had free might have been part of that.

We did not go for the dancing in the strictest sense. You see, we came to watch.

And comment.

We walk in the door in our heels and skirts, hair pinned. While waiting to secure our first drink, Em is approached by German Man. Lets call him Mike. Mike is tall, and wearing jeans and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled casually. He recognizes her from a dance class.

And he wants to show her his moves.

She declines.

Someone else (who apparently didn't see that little exchange) walks by, screeches to a halt and asks her.

She declines.

Me, who like any intelligent people watcher, had packed a little pad of blue post-its in my purse, decided to keep count. Especially after the next man remembered her from one of her other jobs.

I was fascinated. Is this how the other half lives? Being constantly asked to the floor? All fine and good if you actually know how to salsa, I guess. Waltzing is more my thing.

We find a table against the wall, and the only chair left for me is the one with the back to the dance floor. Not Good. I swap, and immediately, Em is beset with her male swains. She was the prow of our metaphorical ship, and she got noticed first. Then Val, and, if they were desperate, me. After 5 more invitations, Em figured out what was happening and made me swap back. But by then, we'd already gone through everyone that was going to ask. (score!!)

I guess they figured that if the other two of the party said no, I wasn't going to satisfy them with a yes.

Then a girl walked by. You know the type. Tall, thin, white top, jean skirt. And tan. That tan that approaches, no, IS a kind of light burnt umber. Her salsa seemed to consist solely of wiggling her hips.

Which, I will admit, she did well.

Could put a hula dancer to shame.

Then came "Bored Girl in Black Dress". Every time she whirled by, I was fascinated by the lack of anything constituting her legs except for (apparently) bone. And the dress was short. I was in fear of a side show. Then Em points out that it is her lack of butt. In my diagram below, you can see that this is indeed the case.

Another couple twirled by. And I do mean twirled, because that was all he was doing with her. The Redgirl Household knows enough about dancing to know when someone has no clue, and Mr. White T-shirt had a great partner and didn't know what to do with her. From the look on her face, she was fed up and getting dizzy.

Smart move, my man. But as good as playing dead is, even dogs learn new tricks.

Now we have the black-shirted men. There are two of them. Since one is taller, we will refer to them as SBSM and TBSM. (Hmm...I'm not sure about these acronyms. They look a little...restrained. Ah well)

TBSM has a clueless partner, but he's a good enough dancer to pull it off. Problem is, she's acting a little listless. SBSM has a very enthusiastic partner. He's not quite as good as TBSM, but he looks like he's having more fun.

Enter Mike. Mike is dancing with a tall girl in white shorts. And it quickly becomes apparent that he's Not Happy. Em says: "He can dance a heck of a lot better than that. He's less than enthusiastic about his partner." Val: "She's also not very good." Me: "Amen sister."

Very astute, Em. "But," I say, "SBSM has an inexperienced partner, and they're doing fine, having fun. What's the difference?"

We all watch carefully.

Ah HA!

Two things: Contact and Enthusiasm.

If you dance in a listless fashion, even the best dance partner can't do anything with nothing. Can't direct the flow of water if there's nothing to direct.

Contact is very important. Goes back to your frame. If you have the right frame (which involves touching the other person; Egads!), then the right action by the male will end up with at least something happening. See the diagram below for clarification:

Her hands were in the position B.

As the song appears to be wrapping up, Mike is trying to leave white shorts girl. She's not getting the hint. He's done, but she doesn't know it. Later, he comes over to chat, and confirms everything, to our immense satisfaction and glee.

An Asian man in his late 40's appears to have forgotten that he already asked us to dance, and comes back to be rebuffed (politely) again. Then we see him on the dance floor.

It's always interesting to see a person who asked you to dance dancing with someone else. Lets you know what experience you might have been in for.

Lemme put it this way. For a social dance, he was remarkably unsocial about the whole dancing thing.

The African guy with the good frame and no technique was fun to watch, but that's not the cherry on the mountain top.

While taking a genteel sip of my Manhattan, something caught my eye.

This couple:

...was trying to do the bump and grind. But they had to do it to a salsa beat, because that was what was on.

It was entertaining.

Oh, and final score?

Em: 2 people she knew, 2 people she kinda knew, and 7 random people.

Val: 6 people

Me: 3 people

Oi! Forgive the drawings. I'm at work, but they had to be made!