On a solo tango trip to Buenos Aires, I arrived at Salon Canning and was led to a table in the back, squeezed next to a table with two lovely young men.  Eventually, we cabeceo’d each other and laughed at the silliness of cabeceoing the person next to you.  The first young man was a wonderful dancer, who  must have said something flattering about me to his friend, who asked me to dance two tandas later.

When we stepped onto the dance floor, he wrapped his arm around me, and the world disappeared.  There were no other dancers, no floor, no lights; just his warm breath on my neck and the pounding of his heart against my chest.  We melted into the notes themselves, joining the smoky haze hanging over our heads.  I have never danced like that before or since.  I literally fell in love.

The tanda ended and he and his friend left.  I never saw him again.

Johanna