This creature is very easy to spot at a salsa party due to the fact that regardless of the density of the crowd on the floor, when she dances, as if by magic, a large space flowers around her path. Everyone knows the Tornado. Those who don’t have this pleasure already figure out very quickly, after having received the benediction of her elbow in their nose, two or three piercings by the heel of her shoe, or the rake of her nails across their face, and they quickly migrate to other, safer areas of the dancefloor. The Tornado, incidentally, never excuses herself : on the contrary, when she caroms into another dancer during the course of her frenzy, euh, that is, her dance, she looks at them with a bothered glance, as if she wanted to say, ‘hey, Jerk, outta my way ?’ We all need a certain amount of dance space, without which, one is obligated to dance Minimalist salsa, which is characterized by expressively nodding the head and little else. However, for her, the dance space required is a spacious 10 square meters, which is roughly the equivalent of a Parisian studio apartment. One might think that the eye of the storm might be attained by being proactive and asking her to dance : but no, your left arm will cramp up and send in a letter of resignation after she pulls tug-of-war with it by throwing herself backwards every three measures, and it is unfortunately less rare than one would hope to be rewarded by her elbow in your nose, or even to put out one’s back while attempting to retrieve her from one of the trademark spectacularly momentous dips into which she throws herself. What’s that ? A second dance ? Euh, no thanks.
juillet 20, 2005