My group trip to Buenos-Ayres is coming soon now, and I figured I had to do some specific training to be, maybe not ready, but say not totally clueless when the soles of my dance shoes will meet the floors of Confiteria La Ideal
, La Estrella
, or Gricel
First step, I explored my sequences notebook and cut everything that could not be danced on a packed floor. There remained only 60 sequences, and I printed the list.
Second step, I tried to find a local milonga where dancers would be packed. First I went to a milonga with quite a small floor, but there were also few people so it wasn't packed at all, and I left. Then I tried a larger milonga, but quite popular so despite the vast floor the dancers had to move in a very reduced space. So I paid the entry fee, changed my shoes and put an ironed shirt. I had my list in the pocket, and the plan was to divide my time between the dance floor and the bar, testing my sequences and checking after each tanda which sequence had not be tried yet.
But it didn't work as planned. Right after entering the milonga, I met a friend and he invited me to his table. And slowly, cradled softly by the music, I became numb, lethargic, frozen. As time went by I felt less and less eager to dance, watching indifferently my friends inviting the ladies. This always happen to me during balls, but usually some girl comes to me for a dance, I more or less reluctantly agree and after this first dance I get in the right mood. But this time it didn't happen, as the girls I knew were already very busy dancing with the (much more numerous) guys I knew, and had no need to come to me. From time to time I had a look at my list but it had become obvious to me that I wouldn't even stand up this evening.
After four hours or so I realized that for sleeping my bed would be more comfy than a chair in a milonga, and I left.
On the other hand, sitting silenty on a chair for hours and looking at all the other people dancing is most likely what will happen to me in Buenos-Ayres, so maybe I'm doing fine with my preparation, after all...