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Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Let him support you and other life lessons from Tango class.

I went back for Tango tonight at the Chicago Dance Center, or is it Dance Center of Chicago? Whatever–dance, chicago, center–all important words. Tonight was the first class of the five week rotation–keep in mind that I jumped into the class in week three last month. So this was back to basics.

There were more women than men tonight, which meant that we got to dance with the instructor. I love dancing with the instructor–I love dancing with any man that can dance and lead properly. Tonight I got to dance with him a number of times and he gave me a number of small corrections about step size, attitude and other things. The one that was the life lesson was about what to do with my left arm.

“Sometimes you are pushing down and sometimes your holding it up, let the man support you.”

It seemed like something pulled from a greeting card–sometimes you have to be a part of a team, don’t be so independent all the time, let the man support you. Don’t push against, don’t hold away, just let the man support you.

I love dance and dancing. Social ballroom dance is wonderful and (she said humbly) I’m good at it. Three years of marching band and countless years of music drummed into me rhythm. I can find the beat and I’m getting better about following a lead. I’m stubborn (I’m an Aires, what do you expect?) and independent, letting a man lead is difficult.

Then after class, I made a new friend. Making new girlfriends is challenging and my sister is much better at it than I am. She seeks out women to be friends with, where I fall in with some co-workers or friends of friends. But I don’t ever ask someone to be friends with me, that takes guts. There was a woman in the class who took it, because she might go to Argentina in January. We stood outside chatting and she suggested getting some food. So we went to the Brownstone for Malbec and dinner. She’s a photographer and a question asker–which is good, because I am a story teller. It was like a first date, but a good one.

All in all a good night.

Add that to the fantastic pair of Kenneth Cole shoes I got for only $26 dollars at Nordstrom rack and the blue faced man I saw this morning, you’ve got a good day. Although it could have been blue faced men. I saw one standing on the platform at Fullerton–I’m not talking Blue as in cold or dying, but Blue as in Blue man group or Cubs fan. Then there was a guy with a painted Blue face walking towards me on Randolph from Michigan avenue. He had a big sign on that said something about Blue, so it was on purpose, but I didn’t stop him.

I prefer to make up stories about men in suits with blue faces taking over commerce. Kind of a Braveheart thing.

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