I wish to speak simply.
Since last Tuesday night I have spent more than 20 hours doing what writers call clearing my throat. That is writing circles around a thing—dressing it up with lyricism or wit, dazzling, analyzing, explaining, contextualizing—all as a way of sidling up to a subject or avoiding it altogether.
To no avail.
That’s how it goes. You write, you toss. Write-toss, write-toss until you discover what it is you’re not saying. Then you say it. Like this:
If you leave me on the dance floor in the middle of a tanda, I won’t dance with you again.
It happened to me last summer, a lead dumped me mid-tanda in a way designed to call attention to the act.* I was humiliated, but I don’t think that was his intent. I think he staged the drama for his own benefit, to say to the crowd: I’m too good for this shit.
I’m over it. I’ve gained confidence and skill, and now when I see him I don’t cringe. Also, Tango Colorado is a large organization; we may see one another across a ballroom, but the chance of our paths crossing is slim.
Except for this: He keeps asking me to dance. Three times in the past several months.
The first time I simply said no. The second time I explained: You left me on the dance floor last summer. I will never dance with you again.
Last Tuesday night at the Turn, he asked again.
This persistent asking is a mystery. Other men, I turn them down once for very good reason--my feet are on fire, my taxi is waiting--and they never again ask me to dance. For months I have been friendly (painfully so, quashing every shy urge to run and hide) to a lead I would love to dance with--but no luck. He's friendly right back—but no invitations to dance. I turned him down in December 2006.
So what’s with the Bad Cowboy?
I have my theories—he doesn’t remember who I am from one day to the next, he thinks if he keeps asking I’ll change my mind--but that’s all conjecture. I prefer fact.
Here it is:
If you dump me on the dance floor in the middle of a tanda, I will not dance with you again.
Never in your lifetime.
Stop asking, please.
_____
*This is not the spectacular dumping described in a previous post, only the warm-up act.
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2 comments:
Smart girl. HANG TOUGH. In the codebook it says a lady may terminate a tanda for cause, a gentleman, never. He is no gentleman. Had he cared to make amends, he could have apologized sometime in the last twelve months. That he did not is proof of his continued intent to harm.
You made my day! When I am not reacting out my higher self, I have to admit I have a certain smug satisfaction every time I tell this guy "no."
Do you know the movie Pretty Woman, the scene in which Julia Roberts, loaded down with purchases made elsewhere, returns to a boutique where the commission-based saleswomen snubbed her, and lets them know they made a BIG MISTAKE in underestimating her?
Yeah, it's like that.
:)
Thanks for writing. I always smile when I see your name in my comments box!
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