Out of step at Agave
Usually when I go to Agave in Avon, it’s to get some good Mexican food, chat with friends and, oh, yeah, get bombed on margaritas. But, last Wednesday night the Lord had other plans for me.Oh, don’t worry, the margaritas were still flowing, but what I didn’t know was what I’d be doing out on the dance floor.I’d be sweating like a Leadville 100 runner, getting twirled around like a dreidel at a Bat mitzvah by girls half my height with names like Maria and Consuela and praying for mercy from DJ Patrick Cassidy, who spins salsa andmeringue night at Agave.There are a few things I learned at salsa night.First, this wasn’t an all-you-can-eat buffet, where as long as you can keep eating the chips they’ll bring you more salsa.No, this was the kind of salsa that starts around 10 p.m. and pounds until 2 a.m.I learned that the bouncing up and down and thrusting that you learned how to do at your first junior high dance was not really dancing. It was bouncing up and down and thrusting.Calling what I was doing dancing compared to the salsa pros at Agave would be like calling what Milli Vanilli did singing.I felt like an asthmatic elementary school midget gymnast trying to compete in the Olympics floor routine. All I could do was the twirl thing like you see in swing dancing, which, incidentally, I also stink at.I remember back in junior high when I finally left the wall of the gym and ventured over to the girl’s side, which I never had the guts to do except once. I ended up in a circle of confused looking kids tapping our feet and doing what we thought was dancing.The kids down in Mexico, South and Central America and Spain were apparently having a different experience. They were probably getting private dance lessons from Gloria Estefan, learning actual dance steps, developing asolid dance rhythm and refining the coordination only a combination of Tiger Woods and Spider Man could beat.So last Wednesday it was pretty sad when I learned I couldn’t even fall back on the exceptional skill and grace I’ve built up with the “sprinkler” and “bagging the groceries” moves I’ve perfected at my friends weddings over the last few years. The snake, the worm and even the fake break-dancing moves like when you walk like a robot that I knew from the school yard couldn’t help me. You just couldn’t fake it out there on the crowded, mostly-Latin dance floor. People had serious dancing faces on. Mine was confused. Their feet moved like a brand-new I-Mac while mine moved like a 1987 Commodore 64. These guys had more moves than Michael Jordan, while mymoves were pretty limited, seeing I only had two left feet to work with.I also learned that when people from Latin America go out, they go big. There were long flowing blouses on the ladies and guys in fresh-pressed shirts that were as crisp as their dance step.I was wearing my favorite “Come on, Feel the Noise” T-shirt from last week’s Quiet Riot show at 8150, looking at feet that wouldn’t communicate with my brain.So if you hit Agave for salsa night, dress up, take a couple lessons and get there early, so you can have a couple margaritas. You’re going to need them.
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