From a post over at Confessions of a Tango Dancer...
One of the contributors there writes (hilariously) about a guy with excessive chest hair spilling out, and how it tickled her face, her ear when she turned her head and her nose. And then it made her sneeze. It's a funny post that touches on the subject of nicknames as well. This guy is "Mr. Amazon Jungle".
Have you ever burst out laughing while dancing...or immediately after...?
Not like a "having fun" chuckle or laugh, which I find to be fairly common, especially when playing...
But a real, bona fide, gut wrenching, hilarious, can't stop or control yourself, bust/burst out laugh about something weird or funny in that moment?
I don't think think it's ever happened to me...I will have to think on that.
A friend of mine was dancing in Buenos Aires with a guy...a fairly well known teacher on the international circuit. He was expressing some musicality with his abdominal muscles, pumping, and rolling and fluttering them to the music. This was a first for her, and she was dumbfounded I suppose. She said she did know what to do, except to bust out laughing. She hoped the guy didn't take it the wrong way.
Please share your stories here....thanks in advance!
2 comments:
I have done that, in the middle of the song, no less! Thankfully, so did my leader. This particular leader and I tend to accent the beats at the end of musical phrases. Often we will do some little movement with our torsos. In the middle of a song one evening, there was a pause - right when we expected a couple of accented beats! So, of course, we put them in with our dancing even though they weren't in the song. We were both so surprised and amazed that we had done it together that we stopped dancing entirely and just laughed until we were in tears. Then we embraced and continued the song with some sporadic giggling.
Now we have a running joke about missing beats, finding the beats that we lost in that song, etc. I love it.
I have *nearly* done it at least twice with a particular leader who's technically fine, but dances extremely pretentiously, so that he's a parody of himself. I don't mind dancing with him occasionally because he leads a lot of things most people don't and I like to check sometimes whether I can deliver them. I generally can, but I'm conscious that to the discriminating eye we look like utter fools - albeit skilful fools - so my main problem is keeping a straight face.
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