Dragging yourself away from a milonga, a tea dance, a práctica. It's the hardest and often the sweetest part. A dozen, a score, a hundred people who can't quite bring themselves to surrender to real life again.
Perhaps twenty will plunge out into the night, like jumping into the cold sea. The quicker they do it, the easier it is.
Another small group will drag their tango out with them for a while, to a pub or a restaurant, for drinks or eats or treats. A little mutual commiseration that the weekend's over and the work's about to begin again.
Some will stay to help with the tidying up, or to exchange notes with the DJ, or to simply sit a while and watch the room empty out. Unable to tear themselves away.
When we finally get to the car, or home, or on the train, we start to dream about the next time we'll all meet.
You have captured the quality of the feeling at the end of a milonga almost perfectly.
ReplyDeleteI just discovered your blog and love almost all entries. Keep writing, you have a lovely way of doing it.