By José Dominiguez, October 8, 2020 — How to enter in contact with the opposite sex? It was one of my constant questions when I was fifteen years old. Everything, I supposed, had to be in steps, it was a matter of beginning on the proper path, and the next step would appear sooner or later. In those foggy days, I didn’t have a clue about where to start. I guess everybody had a different time to be in real contact with the opposite sex. I had seen with my brothers how at a very early age they championed the technique of flirting, approaching, and continuing further with dames. But I was at my own pace. Delayed by my tendency towards isolation, I was immersed in my solitude. I preferred to read a book than engage in conversations.
Another great distraction for me was going to the movies; in that way, I created a world of fantasy where I could surf at my wish, living adventures through the performance of great actors and others not so great. Independently, with that sense of relative excitement and security, I spent my time attending school and interacting repeatedly with the persons with whom I shared the house. In total, we were seven or eight persons and an old dog. My aunt Julia, my three girl cousins, and the rest of the tenants that rented rooms and meals as parent-supported students, as I did.
But when walking on the streets or in public places, I used to scan with my eyes the girls in my surroundings. I noticed that sometimes they were looking at me when our eyes swiftly came across. In those seconds, or fractions of seconds, my heart suffered a shake and I kept walking as if nothing happened.
I had to do something to overcome that limitation. I was not anxious, or suffering, or preoccupied but in my imagination, I developed fantasies about those young ladies to whom, I supposed, I was not so indifferent. Big deal! What was my reward for such fantasies? Something had to be done. But…What was the next step? How would I approach a girl with the security that my presence was accepted and would usher us to more intimate levels?
Well, I supposed that I had to follow a plan step by step and, as the songs says … “despacito” (slowly). The sketches of the plan arose spontaneously; my cousins liked to dance and promoted some in-house mini dance practices just for fun. In our house, we didn’t have a record player because it was a real luxury, so we depended on the radio to amuse ourselves.
When the conditions were right, our cousins gave me the chance to initiate myself in the world of dance. They showed me how to follow the music. In the beginning, it was not so easy. My movements were rudimentary and my clumsy feet barely moved in the correct way. I could hardly follow my partner’s maneuvers. My body had to forget all stiffness, so I was aware that only in a relaxed mode it was possible. It was necessary then to learn how to bend like an ear of wheat bent by the wind. Added to that, [I had to learn to put] my right hand on the wrist of my female partner and my left hand touching her right hand. Besides all that nonsense, I had to put on a face as if I was enjoying everything. In the beginning, I didn’t. I suppose the rigidity of my skeleton equaled the awkwardness of my muscles, resulting in a robot-like chaos. My face surely was not a nice reflection of my happy soul but the struggle of a spirit facing a complicated existential issue.
Nevertheless, very soon I was attending small house parties where I had the chance to cut the umbilical cord that kept me attached to my former instructors; to hold girls [who were] not in training-mode was a better deal. Rock and Roll was beginning to impact our community and Elvis’ “Jail House Rock” among others were the optimal expression of modernism and life enjoyment. I decided not to follow the rock and roll trend. I would play by the rules of traditional music… I was decided that the slow pace dancing with coordinated movements were more akin to my leisurely way of living, in contraposition to the vigorous and fast movements that represented, for me, a waste of energy and a distraction from my main goal — to be in touch with the lady in turn.
This traditional dancing music for me included what we call danzones, boleros, tango, slow tropical songs, and also American music such as Ray Conniff’s interpretations; and every other music that I could execute at a moderate speed. With time, I managed to have more quickness and more control in my efforts, and I applied my achievements at graduation parties, birthdays, holidays, etc. with neighbors, relatives, and personal friends.
From my slow but sure exposure, I learned several things: that I had the advantage to select the right pick, that it was more or less possible to have an idea of age, height, and weight of the future partner, that it was better to wait a few moments after the music started to focus on those that were not dancing, that the best parties were those with more girls than boys, that proper locations to dance were far from the orchestra or the speakers in order to be verbally in touch. When the moment to perform came, I put all my best efforts into dancing as best as I could. I had to recognize that on several occasions I had to deal with bursts of anxiety and nervousness, but never with panic.
Sometimes, a little sip of tequila helped me to relax my perturbed nerves. I was sure that if I was successful (which I wasn’t always) everything would flow more easily. The rest was mundane, joyful talk, and having fun. If the girl was special and pleased my expectations or more, I would try to maintain physical contact as close as possible. What did that mean? Well, in relation to the face, some girls were defensive and only allowed face contact in the frontal place. If that happened it meant that there was a limit. But if luckily the dancer admitted cheek to cheek dance, it was a hit.
Between songs there was always an amount of time for us to prepare for the next musical interpretation. If the partner asked to be seated it meant failure, but if she decided to stay, the next thing was to hold her hand. Another move was to apply more pressure to the embrace to feel her body as near as possible. To do that, the arm around her waist was more than suitable to apply pressure, if my pressure was accepted then I could put my open hand freely on her back. In the end, a good dance will be the one in which the body movements and touching were no problem, the talk was nice and, hopefully, I would obtain personal information of the lady.
After several years of practice, with lots of trials and errors, I became the beneficiary of my perseverant practice. In my way, I had a modest skill development suited to my purposes. My imperfect, limited, and selective— but deliberate — mastery of dancing helped me to be in touch with the girls I have loved most in my life, regardless of my narrow repertoire. In the end, I was rewarded with the nearness I was looking for.