Santas been good to me
Christmas time again and the world keeps turning. It should come as no surprise that tango does not break for major holidays, but it was a little unusual that a Roman tango teacher should stop by looking for tango love on said eve. Yet he did, and recieved.
A little cryptic. So my tango evening started at about 10pm. I wore a red dress that covered everything but a diamond on each shoulder. Stunning. Black lace nylons and a red Santa hat. Fiesty. Street sneakers on the feet. Fucking Hellbeast!! I forgot my tango shoes, so I had to wear my street shoes. They do not pivot. They look really ugly. I did not follow. I also forgot my key to the tango center. Crud. Oh well, there are 2 other people who can lock up for me.
I spent the last two weeks painstakingly making aprox. 30 dishclothes as gifts for tango people. They take 1-2 hours each. Lots o' work. I think they were appreciated. So my tango evening was productive. I danced, I made merry, I gave out dishclothes. Around 12:30 most people had left, we were getting ready to leave. In comes Filipo, an Italian tango teacher (handsome) who happened to be in the neighborhood. He had already given some classes in town on tango, (raved about), and was staying with friends of his in town. Well, Yifong was too shy to dance with him, Marisella danced a few and went home, whose job was it to entertain our guest? Heh. In ugly street sneakers. Yeah baby.
Well, everyone else wanted to leave. Hmmm, maybe its time to kick him out. Oops, he lost his key to his friends' house and didn't want to wake him. Could he just shack up in the tango center for the night? Thanks. Ok, we're leaving. But Filipo and I are still dancing. He doesn't want to stop, and theres no WAY I'm going to ask such a fantastic international dancer to quit dancing with me. Fine. I'll lock up when we're done dancing. (No keys. SHIT. I didn't bring my bike, and its an hour and a half walk home. Super shit.) Continue dancing anyways.
This is the part where I start blushing. It occurs to me that he doesn't seem opposed to dancing the night away with me in his arms, he's sleeping on the futon in the tango center anyway, I'm suppose to be entertaining him and there's no way home. To fuck or not to fuck? He's young, handsome, accent, interested, oh god he's nuzzling my neck. Its 2:30 and we've been dancing for an hour anyway, no sense in walking home . . .
I was a good girl. I told him it was late and had him drive me home. (Greg had given him a key as it turned out). I had a good nights sleep, but not before I thought about the night. I said no to a handsome, brilliant tango dancer that was leaving the next day. I said no and he was ok with that. I was ok with that. In fact, I was relieved. I gave up men two years ago and I'm holding to that. (But it felt good to have someone attracted to me. Just once).
I think I'm finally realizing its ok to say no. And I CAN say no. I can get over this horribly abusive spiral of sex and men. Santa gave me a great present. I had great tango with an attractive man, learned something about tango and learned something about me.
Seasons Greetings to y'all. Have a good week.
A little cryptic. So my tango evening started at about 10pm. I wore a red dress that covered everything but a diamond on each shoulder. Stunning. Black lace nylons and a red Santa hat. Fiesty. Street sneakers on the feet. Fucking Hellbeast!! I forgot my tango shoes, so I had to wear my street shoes. They do not pivot. They look really ugly. I did not follow. I also forgot my key to the tango center. Crud. Oh well, there are 2 other people who can lock up for me.
I spent the last two weeks painstakingly making aprox. 30 dishclothes as gifts for tango people. They take 1-2 hours each. Lots o' work. I think they were appreciated. So my tango evening was productive. I danced, I made merry, I gave out dishclothes. Around 12:30 most people had left, we were getting ready to leave. In comes Filipo, an Italian tango teacher (handsome) who happened to be in the neighborhood. He had already given some classes in town on tango, (raved about), and was staying with friends of his in town. Well, Yifong was too shy to dance with him, Marisella danced a few and went home, whose job was it to entertain our guest? Heh. In ugly street sneakers. Yeah baby.
Well, everyone else wanted to leave. Hmmm, maybe its time to kick him out. Oops, he lost his key to his friends' house and didn't want to wake him. Could he just shack up in the tango center for the night? Thanks. Ok, we're leaving. But Filipo and I are still dancing. He doesn't want to stop, and theres no WAY I'm going to ask such a fantastic international dancer to quit dancing with me. Fine. I'll lock up when we're done dancing. (No keys. SHIT. I didn't bring my bike, and its an hour and a half walk home. Super shit.) Continue dancing anyways.
This is the part where I start blushing. It occurs to me that he doesn't seem opposed to dancing the night away with me in his arms, he's sleeping on the futon in the tango center anyway, I'm suppose to be entertaining him and there's no way home. To fuck or not to fuck? He's young, handsome, accent, interested, oh god he's nuzzling my neck. Its 2:30 and we've been dancing for an hour anyway, no sense in walking home . . .
I was a good girl. I told him it was late and had him drive me home. (Greg had given him a key as it turned out). I had a good nights sleep, but not before I thought about the night. I said no to a handsome, brilliant tango dancer that was leaving the next day. I said no and he was ok with that. I was ok with that. In fact, I was relieved. I gave up men two years ago and I'm holding to that. (But it felt good to have someone attracted to me. Just once).
I think I'm finally realizing its ok to say no. And I CAN say no. I can get over this horribly abusive spiral of sex and men. Santa gave me a great present. I had great tango with an attractive man, learned something about tango and learned something about me.
Seasons Greetings to y'all. Have a good week.