Monday 27 August 2012

Bite-Sized Dance Stories: Romantic Novels Don't Translate Well In Real Life

My body trembled out of nervousness. This was a dance venue that I have never been to, and boy was it crowded. If there's anything that I learnt about salsa dancing in slots and tight spaces, this place was pushing me to the ultimate test.

Standing by the sidelines watching how each dancer was able to narrowly miss each other summoned cold sweat down my face. I didn't know anyone who was there and I couldn't spot any familiar faces from my dance school. These dancers also seemed to produce an aura that I wasn't familiar with, and it was intimidating to just watch how they could flaunt their style flawlessly. I felt awfully outclassed and started to think twice whether going alone was a good idea after all. But before I could do anything else, a stranger offered his hand to me. I accepted his offer for a dance out of courtesy, and had my toes crossed wishing myself good luck, or rather, break a leg.

The guy I was dancing to was a good-looking Latino. He struck up a conversation with me as we danced in our allotted slot on the dance floor. He asked me who I am, what I do, and other mundane questions. But when it was my turn to ask him, he didn't reveal much and cracked a few jokes along the way. Somehow, that piqued my curiousity, and found myself slightly attracted to this guy. Throughout the dance, he's been giving me gentle leads, and was also nice enough to apologise when he messed up a move.

As we continued talking and dancing, these positive thoughts about him made me feel like jelly on the inside. It was like going on a date. Consciously, I didn't know that it had been affecting my performance on the dance floor, until at one point, I tripped forward, and fell onto him. Luckily, he was able to sense my imbalance and caught me in time.

It was at that moment I realised that our bodies were pressed against each other. I looked up to see his impish smile and his dark brown eyes piercing into mine. In that moment, it seemed that time had frozen for a split second and it had been just the two of us getting more than the connection we have while partner dancing. And then, a realisation struck me: this is just like the romantic novels, in its heightened ecstatic glory of meeting your potential love of your life. In those instances it seemed that his face glowed more and his hair was gently swept by the wind from the air-con. It's too surreal, and I felt lightheaded from all these thoughts and possible responses I should do. When I was able to gather my thoughts, I did what I knew had to be the best solution to such a situation.


Run out of the dance floor shrieking like a banshee, never to return again.

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