In Strangers' Arms

I am sitting elbow-to-elbow at an all female rectangular table. I feel the eyes of an “elderly-elderly” man in his 90s fixed on my neck. (I normally enjoy dancing with elderly men but his frailty scares me). I watched him earlier … he could hardly walk … how could he manage to dance?

From the corner of my eye I see him getting up from his table and walking –with difficulty – around the 15 foot long table until he places himself in front of me. I avoid eye contact. He takes the hint and walks back to his seat. Did I say his seat? I was wrong!  He passed his seat and is now standing right behind me and saying: “How do I invite a woman to dance if she does not look at me?”

Now, I have to turn around and face him, it would be rude otherwise. He leans down and whispers: “Do not take your glasses off when you dance. He goes on with dreamy eyes: “You remind me of my geography teacher. I was in love with her.”

I feel touched. A tanda goes by. I feel mean for avoiding him. I look back and say: “Señor, would you like to dance with your geography teacher? I will keep my glasses on.”

To my surprise he tangoes with a much younger energy and zest. He thanks me profusely. I hope he dreams with his geography teacher tonight.

Lesson: Never make the assumption that those who can hardly walk cannot dance. I have forgotten this far too many times – dancing and walking reside in two different parts of the brain.

(Copyright (c) 2013 Beatriz Dujovne)

Tags: Dancing