I had tried this Monday class two years ago, and the conclusion was that there was no need to attend it on a regular basis because it looked very much like my Tuesday class (by another teacher). Both would present some material (e.g. sacada de la mujer) and then let us explore the possibilities; sacada on our side step, on our forward step, changing the introductory step, changing the end, doing the sacada with the other foot, and so on. But the Tuesday teacher was a better dancer, gave more material, and his class was cheaper. If there had not been this Tuesday class then yes I would have attended the Monday one, but as there was a Tuesday class… No need to buy a Hummer when you already own a Sherman tank.
But this year the Tuesday teacher has retired. That’s why yesterday I put my shoes, towel and mints in a bag and tried my luck. Luck is what provides a nice partner to the lone leader. Nice and lasting, if you are very lucky.
Yesterday it all started quite well, the teacher introduced me to a little brunette for the warm-up. The room was large, wooden floor, mirrors, fans. Three other couples walking around. This supposedly was an intermediate-advanced class, but they were not looking so intermediate really. Intermediate is when clumsiness is gone, and here even a system switch (parallel/crossed) was a complex protocol for them, involving half a dozen preparatory steps and the loss of the beat as well.
One leader particularly, a young thin tall guy with a peroxide blonde for partner, was struggling and stumbling. His face relaxed only when the teacher asked for a general trade of partners. I thanked the brunette, not knowing I was seeing her for the last time. She went to the tall guy and the peroxide came to me.
And the nice class was history.
I received from her the same flow of instruction – in quantity, that is – than when I take a private in BsAs (you know, the first 10 minutes, when all you do is wrong).
“Take more care of my axis when you turn around me!”. Sure, if only you could stop leaning forward with all the weight of your 140 pounds. “More dissociation! Turn to me! More! More!”. If a human being could dissociate that much then he would be signed by a Hollywood producer to perform the 360° head spin in the Exorcist. “Now that’s a gancho! Did you like it?” Oh it happened too fast, I didn’t even know I was leading something at all. “Pull your left hand backward to lead my back sacada. Much more!” Excuse me but this is the only left arm that I have, once dismantled it cannot be fixed. “Oh excuse me for taking this step, *I* was listening to the music.” I’m glad you can hear something, my own ears have a system failure/stack overflow.
Of course there were subsequent partner trades but the other leaders carefully changed between themselves, leaving me with the pterodactyl, err sorry the peroxide.