We encounter the "Elbow Dancer"

We would rather go to a milonga further from the centre but it was around midnight on Sunday night and we didn't want to travel so far from the hotel.  We consulted the milonga schedule and decided reluctantly to head over to El Beso, which ends at 3:00 a.m.  That gives us at least a good 2 hours of dancing.

El Beso was packed - well, not as bad as before really.  There are fewer tourists in the milongas for some reason - someone mentioned to us that perhaps it was because they had all turned up in droves in August for all the tango events like the Mundial, etc.  Anyway, we got our table next to the mirror, ordered our drinks, and prepared to dance.

Floorcraft and navigation has been better everywhere we went, even compared to March, a mere six months ago.  Only two silly asses doing high kicks in the middle of the floor (usually there'd be around five to seven) and the rest followed the line of dance.

And then we encountered the Elbow Dancer.

Just looking at him, you'd think he was sane.  He was a distinguished-looking older spanish-speaking gentleman (perhaps Argentinian, perhaps not), dressed in a suit with gold cufflinks and with grey hair and beard.  He stood straight enough and didn't go nuts with the giros and the ganchos. 

We were minding our own business on the floor when we got nudged.  It's common when it gets crowded, we didn't pay any attention.

Then it happened again.  Nudge.  And again. Nudge, nudge.  Poke.  Nudge.

I glared at the couple behind us.  It was Mr. Elbow Dancer. He seemed to be dancing... but observing him again, I realized that he was Elbow Dancing. 

Turning his elbows sharply outwards slightly below shoulder level, he was like one of those chariots with spikes in Gladiator.  If people weren't giving him enough space - golly gosh, he was going to make it!

I glared at him as he approached again and WATCHED him poke Man Yung in the back.

"WTF!!!!" I yelled.  We spun around to confront the guy. I couldn't hear what Man Yung said but I certainly didn't hold back.  "What is your problem!" I yelled.  "What do you think you are doing, shoving into people with your elbows!"  I imitated his argy-bargy double-elbow prodding. I might have thrown an expletive somewhere in there.

"No entiendo," said Mr. E.D.  He was caught red-handed but he didn't want his partner to think that he was an ass.  "You have to move forward," he added, weakly.

"THERE ARE PEOPLE IN FRONT OF US!!!!" I said, pointing to the couple in front of us. 

Message sent.  We continued dancing.  The prodding stopped for the moment.

"That guy was asking for a punch in the face," Man Yung said at the end of the tanda.  I agreed.  I wanted to punch that guy in the face myself.  He was like one of those drivers who are so selfish, they keep on flashing their high beams and tailgating the car in front of them on the highway - even though it's wall to wall traffic right in front of the car they were tailgating.

However, there was no need for that.  Mr. E.D. finished the tanda and left.  But not before dragging the tablecloth right off his table (what, did he tuck it into his pants?) and almost knocking over a chair.