IS THAT A CHORIZO IN YOUR POCKET...?
There are times when I feel extra hot at the milonga, when all the elements come together and just WORK: I've got a great dress on; I'm wearing my expensive support bra from Victoria's Secret that gives me that extra lift and butt-cleavage; I'm not bloated for once; the hair and make-up are cooperating; and people want to tango with me.
I don't know if I also start exuding special pheromones into the atmosphere in these rare moments of hotness, or what, but it is during these occasions when I feel a special schwing-a-ding-ding going on in the nether-regions of a male tango partner or two. It's downright uncomfortable. I mean, surely he notices it. I sure as hell do. What do I do? These are guys with whom I've danced with before. We know each other, joke around, dance, and chau. Now, his little one-eyed monster is saluting me during a tanda. Should I take it as an insult or a compliment?
I like to take is as just a biological, animal heat thing. The poor guys can't help themselves. Their equipment is out there--and, Jungle Sisters, we all know it just takes a stiff breeze to get the boat out of the harbour--and embracing them surely doesn't help matters. Plus, there you are, flaunting your cute Dancing Queen self all over the milonga, whattya gonna do? If they are gentlemen, they will be as as surprised and embarrassed about it as you, so your best bet is to smile and pretend like nothing happened. The moment the tanda breaks, the magic will be gone, and his soldier will be at ease.
The special case, of course, is the pajero (roughly, someone that likes to hacer la paja=masturbate) or franelero (a feeler-upper) who dances with women to get their jollies, in which case, you have every right to cut the tanda short and leave him and his trouser snake abandoned and frustrated on the dance floor.
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A survival manual for those brave enough to venture into the jungle called the "milonga." A blog strong enough for a man, but written by and made for women.
5 comments:
As you said, there IS a difference: when they intentionally want you to know about their "situation", it is yucky. A wayward amague is always satisfying.
Thanks, Johanna, for your comment. I've read your book, and it's wonderful! Hope to meet you the next time I'm in California (you're CA, right)? All the best -TG
Thank YOU, TG. Do let me know when you're in LA next.
Oooh you just know you slipped in the p word to get these tourists into trouble. Now they are going to try and add it to their vocabulary thinking they are all cool and porteño like, and won´t understand at all when they get freaked out on for using it. Mean mean mean Tango Jungle Lady! ;)
Some of the women in Aspen used to talk about "the banana" with regard to certain leaders. Basically, there were certain guys who ALWAYS danced with a chorizo in their pocket - every follower noted it. One of them in particular was in the process of reconciling with his ex-wife, living with his girlfriend, dating the local tango teacher, and had propositioned several of the other ladies to sample his chorizo.
My buddy and I used to joke that all of the blood was in our "upper" head, that an "event" such as this was an impossibility. I must say it's happened to me a couple of times - special occasions you might say - but always "low grade" in lieu of "full blown".
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