I have a confession to make. After all of my grandstanding about letting the guy lead and just trying to trust and follow I failed my new philosophy this weekend. On Sunday afternoon, I texted Great Dancing Argentinian (GDA), the cute guy with the 10,000 megawatt smile that I knew from Salsa Heat, and asked him if he would like to meet for drinks after he finished work yesterday.
I made the first move. (Although the argument can definitely be made that he made the first move the very first time he extended his hand to me to ask me to dance.)
We met last night, and closed down Three Sisters (after just having one drink apiece and then switching to soft drinks). When it became evident that we were being forced to leave the premises, GDA asked me if I would like to take a walk.
In my country, we could not walk like this so late at night.
We walked very close together, and our hands kept kind of bumping into each other, but I was determined not to take his hand first. I needed him to make the next move. I didn't have to wait long.
You know Jen, I'm kind of shy. He held out his hand and I took it. He looked at me and spoke, I'm really glad you made the first move.
Well, I had been waiting for you but I just couldn't wait anymore! Patience may be a virtue, but it's not one of my strong suits.
This story is abridged for many reasons, having learned my lesson early on that sometimes it is best to leave the fledgling stages of a relationship private. We're going to see each other on Saturday, when I return from my trip to the Atlanta suburbs to visit with family for Thanksgiving. There is one thing I know for sure... GDA and I are going to dance.
Salsa may have changed my life in more ways than just one.
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