Sexy Tango. #Freewrite Monday Prompt
This is my entry to the #freewrite 5-minute exercise hosted by @mariannewest. See details here.
On Saturday, we attended the Luis Mariano Rivera Theater for the Gala of Cumaná Tiene Talento singing contest. Our daughter, Manuela was participating with # 15 of a long list of 30 contestants. Long story short, she did not win; actually, he winner was not even among the night’s best performances, thus fulfilling a long-lived Venezuelan prophesy according to which contests are always arranged. The best singer, in my opinion, got, no surprise, second place.
For such a long program, they had to come up with some entertaining in between. Thus they divided the contestants in 3 groups of ten singers each. In between, they included some dance performances.
They had hired a reputed dancing academy, which, in my opinion, chose a really unfit repertoire for the night (considering the genre all singers were to interpret was: Latin American balada). All the choreographies they showed were racy, oversexed (especially considering the audience) and ultimately trashy clichés topped by one of the worst musical genres ever to be invented: regetón.
[End of five minutes]
All but one. There was one dance that saved the night for me, aside from the fact that our daughter had a wonderful performance, especially considering that she was among the few who has not been attending a singing academy.
There was this sexy tango performed by a young couple. The girl was tall and curvy; the boy slender and a bit shorter than his dancing partner. They did it so well, so smoothly and sensually that at some point I forgot about the possibility of the boy not being able to carry the girl’s weight and just laid back and relaxed, enjoying for the first time in a long time a theater performance that truly transported me somewhere else, even of for just a few minutes.
We have to thank the Argentineans for having come up with such a delightful dance. One capable of sending to oblivion 6 or 7 embarrassing attempts to merge bodies and souls in a rhythmic communion that can tell a story and shake our minds and bodies. That’s what that tango did to me. It caressed my senses with every soft swipe of feet, followed by sudden charges of breasts, hips and thighs, firmly but elegantly holding to eternal arms, hands and fingers that scratched, grabbed, or dragged fiercely and unapologetically every inch of the wanted and needed partner.
The music was gone, the lights were out but the heaving and the panting could be still heard and felt in dancers and audience alike.
Nothing like a sexy tango to accompany an evening of baladas románticas. Pity they did not interspersed good dancing consistently throughout the show, but at least they gave me that sexy tango for good memories’ sake and material for this post.
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