The Twenty Fourth of August, 1937

(tenth week in Buenos Aires!)

My Dear Amigo,

I looked thoroughly flabbergasted when Antonio said yesterday: ‘We, gentlemen are in charge of our lady’s heels. Do not lose your nerve; you are not to choose them. No, you are in charge of the steps you lead and thus of where her heels end up. The floor is desired; this is what is called dancing ‘al piso’, feet on the floor.’

He conceded that ganchos and boleos are rather too amusing, but firmly insisted on my duty as a gentleman to prevent:

• My dance partner hitting the table or the poor chap conversing on the side of the dance floor. She should not like that and I am in no doubt that my right ear should not either.
• Colliding with the couple dancing next to me or ahead of me – are they completely and utterly out of heel reach?
• As for the couple behind me, the responsibility to respect the one-yard security distance is theirs. If they are too close, Antonio did not say I ought to teach them a lesson, but.

Thinking about tango collisions, we started rabbiting on about TASBOs – ‘Tango Anti Social Behaviour Orders’, issued to those responsible for milonga stabbings. I would not be exempt however as I have caused my fair share of accidents…

I shall write again next week. Toodle pip!

Arthur