BUENOS AIRES - TANGO SPECIAL

Yes Alison dragged me kicking and screaming to Tango lessons. Man, what a delight it was. So we get there and it's set, not in a nice 18th century café but in what looks strangely like my old school hall.

I keep making jokes like 'We could just go to the bar over there and order a bottle of wine..' and 'It looks closed, let's go order a bottle of wine.' It wasn't closed however. We went in and bought our ticket for 12 pesos, a bargain in any other circumstances. We had made sure the lessons were in English as well but of course, come the time, everyone there was Argentinean and spoke nothing but Spanish…nice.

I'm wearing a white t-shirt, jeans and black shoes, going for my mid-life look. As we sat down and waited for proceedings to begin, I looked around the room. There was a bunch of couples, whispering to each other. That couple over there looks far too professional for my liking. So do those two to the left, giving me evils. I sit there, my palms are sweaty. Why did I agree to this, let's face it, if I hadn't I would still be hearing the moaning in Australia in two month's time.
The teachers arrive and I swear one of the guys looks like he'd just been to a Metallica concert. What the hell…every time he spoke, all I could think was 'get a haircut. Tuck that shirt in. Have those Big Macs every other day maybe?' Strangely his partner is a skinny nothing of a girl. Looked like the lightest of pushes would break her in to pieces.

So things begin. Another man with greying hair starts talking in Spanish. I'm distracted by his tufts of hair springing out of his shirt. Of course I nod in all the appropriate places. I chuckle when everyone laughs, try to fit in as best I can. I look at my watch 19:15. The lesson finishes at 20:30, okay…you can do this. Our Michael McDonald lookalike gets us to stand up. My head was thinking 'Do I have to?' but my body obeyed almost willingly. I made a note for my mind to have a conversation with my body later to cut out that sort of enthusiasm.
The first thing we seem to be doing is walking in a circle. Brilliant. 'Michael' is teaching us how to walk again. 12 pesos down the toilet. He wants us to slink as we walk, move sexily or something. I'm just ogling at everyone else, trying to copy what the other apes are doing. That guy over there looks like a muppet, I surely look better than him. I notice there are more girls than boys. Maybe 15 girls and 8 boys. Ha some of those losers won't get to dance. Alison informs me however that we have to change partners? Oh for goodness sake, I throw my hands up to the heavens. 'Why should I be punished because someone can't get themselves a boyfriend, it's not my fault they're ugly.' Alison shoots me a scornful look and we carry on walking in our circle.
Then 'Michael' splits up the group in to beginners and advanced.

We get Metallica man and his waif of a partner. I can't believe this guy is going to try to teach me Tango. He belongs in a cage with me poking bananas through the bars. Anyway, they show us a move and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. It seemed quite elegant. First step here, second step there. We split again, girls on one side, boys on the other. I'm standing next to the muppet, his worn out Nikes seem particularly inappropriate. The boys follow Metallica Man, the girls follow the waif. Then we have to rejoin our partners. Of course I take to it like a Llama to water (a Llama with no means of floatation). I fumble around, step on toes, huff and puff. Try again, damnit I can't do this stupid thing. Time check: 19:45. How can there still be 45 minutes to go? Try again, nope. I'm utterly useless at this. I'm at the point of tears when Metallica man barks 'Switch partners.' Alison gives me a nervous glance. I roll my eyes 'Maybe we can just carry on, who's going to know..?'

'Hi, do you want to dance?' A blonde, very pale, slightly butch girl is standing in front of me. 'Uhh…okay.' I take her hand and we start. I still stumble around like the bumbling arse that I am. She is patient with me as I step on her shoes for the fifth time. Then she starts small talk, where am I from, is this my first time etc. I'm as polite as I can be but the frustrations soon came out. I'm a man, and I can only do one thing at a time. I can't talk and remember the steps as well, I just can't.

'Change partners!' The monkey man barks. Alison is back with me. 'You're sweating.' She observes. 'Yeah…well, I can't do it.' I say grumpily. 'Yes you can.' She takes my hand and we start again. Except this time, I'm starting to get it. My feet are placing themselves in the right place at the right time. Don't get me wrong I still look like a girl but at least I'm getting the moves right.

'Very good, see you can do it.' Alison says. She's trying to be encouraging but in my typical male way I find it condescending. Time check: 20:15. Horrah! Only fifteen minutes to go.
Then we have to change partners again and I get this lumpy American girl, who's looks annoyed about something. Maybe it was dancing with me or maybe she'd just been told her home was to be repossessed but either way she was plenty pissed. Just what I needed with my burgeoning Tango moves. We started, I screwed it up. I apologised. She huffed. We started again. I stepped on her toe. She yelped. I apologised. And on and on. I was starting to panic, I couldn't do it under this sort of scrutiny. She was being mean and I wanted to go back to Alison. My prayers were answered when she stopped abruptly and made some lame excuse about her new shoes hurting. Whatever, I thought. And I went back to Alison who was dancing with the monkey and had her eyes closed stench of his pits making them water. 20:30, time to go. As we left, Alison was beaming. 'Thank you for doing that.' She said. Yeah right, I thought. Well we're off to an Argentinean 'futbol' game tomorrow. How do you like them apples!