Moderation in all things? / ¿Moderación en todo?

Her: Why might guys might not dance with a woman?

Him: 

She’s too tall?
She’s too small?
She’s much better dancer than him?
She’s not a very good dancer?
There’s other female friends he wants to dance with more.
She smells funny?
She has a beard
She has criticised him before and dented his ego
She’s rejected him before?
Is she very beautiful?
Super confident?
Loud?
Brash?
Could she be intimidating?
Could she be a pain in the ass?

Her: How can we be a pain in the ass in a dance?

Him: Maybe he thinks she said bad things about him
Maybe he’s been set up by someone else who wants her

Her: How would that work?

Him: If I said to you that someone had been spreading malicious rumours about you would it change how you perceived them?

Her: Oh, wow. So, a guy might spread rumours!!? I didn't know you all were that nefarious.

Him: People do

Her: Are you actually aware of a guy doing that?

Him: I’m being creative here

Her: Aha!!

Him: No. But you were deceived when that person tried to get you all to themselves.

Her: Well, yeah, but some people can be like that.

Him: Exactly

*

Ella: ¿Por qué es posible que los hombres no bailen con una mujer?

Él:

¿Es demasiado alta?

¿Es demasiado pequeña?

¿Ella baila mucho mejor que él?

¿No baila muy bien?

Hay otras amigas con las que le apetece más bailar.

¿Huele raro?

Tiene barba

Ella le ha criticado antes y ha hecho mella en su ego

¿Le ha rechazado antes?

¿Es muy guapa?

¿Súper segura de sí misma?

¿Gritona?

¿Descarada?

¿Podría ser intimidante?

¿Podría ser una rompepelotas? 

Ella: ¿Cómo podemos ser rompepelotas en un baile?

Él: Quizá piense que ella ha hablado mal de él

Quizá le ha tendido una trampa otra persona que la quiere.

Ella: ¿Cómo funcionaría eso?

Él: Si te dijera que alguien ha estado difundiendo rumores malintencionados sobre ti, ¿cambiaría la percepción que tienes de él o ella?

Ella: Vaya. ¿Así que un hombre puede difundir rumores? No sabía que fuerais tan nefastos.

Él: La gente lo hace

Ella: ¿Realmente sabes que un hombre hace eso?

Él: Estoy siendo creativo

Ella: ¡Ajá!

Él: No: No. Pero te engañó deliberadamente cuando esa persona intentó tenerte toda para su mismo.

Ella: Bueno, sí, pero algunas personas pueden ser así.

Él: Exactamente, así es.

Adornments and "Anticipating" / Adornos y "Anticipación"

Wallpaper flare

A lot of guys don't like women who do adornments in dance. Years ago, a "top" local female dancer, asked to dance with me and it was like dancing with soap, there was no 'us', it was all so that she could exhibit. She later became a teacher. 

I asked a friend the other night what he thought about adornments and he likes them. These things are a matter of taste. His pet peeve was women who anticipate his move. With him, I don't "speak" in the dance because I don't feel the need or desire.

But I have stopped dancing with experienced guys who feel to me too controlling. It sets off a warning light though when a guy says he doesn't like women who "anticipate". It feels like we're being shut down, as if he thinks tango is something where things are done to women, where we can't have a voice, a say, an idea.

Some guys even test you in dance. They provoke you to anticipate. It can feel fun at first, a game, but not if you start to realise he is doing it to put you in your place, to assert his dominance.

*

A muchos hombres no les gusta que las mujeres hagan adornos en el baile. Hace años, una bailarina local "top" pidió bailar conmigo y fue como bailar con jabón. No había "nosotros", todo era para que ella se exhibiera. Más tarde se convirtió en profesora.

La noche pasada le pregunté a un amigo qué opinaba de los adornos femeninos y a él le gustan. Cada cual con su gusto. Lo que más le molestaba al bailar era que las mujeres se anticiparon a sus movimientos. Con él, no "hablo" en el baile. No uso tanto mi “voz de baile”, porque no siento la necesidad ni el deseo.

Pero dejé de bailar con hombres experimentados que me parecen demasiado controladores. Sin embargo, cuando un hombre dice que no le gustan las mujeres que "se anticipan", se me enciende una luz de alarma. Parece que se nos está silenciando, como si el tango fuera un lugar donde a las mujeres les hacen hacer cosas, como si no tuviéramos ni voz ni voto. 

Algunos hombres incluso te ponen a prueba en el baile. Te provoca para que te anticipes. En un primer momento puede parecer divertido, un juego, pero no si te das cuenta que lo hace para ponerte en tu lugar, para afirmar su dominio.

Estoy muy agradecida a Ale por su ayuda con la traducción. Cualquier error restante es sólo mío.

Why doesn't he invite her to dance? / ¿Por qué él no la saca a bailar?

Twitter

There are lots of personal reasons he may not want to dance with her. Maybe he thinks she's too fat, too small, too tall, too old, too butch, she smells, he doesn’t like her perfume or that she leans on him, or that she's too stiff.  For many guys, though it's not about a lack of experience, especially if she is young. 

Some ten years ago, I asked a guy what the teacher's partner (a beautiful woman), famous for her acrobatic legs and showy style was like to dance with. Well, if you're OK with being a gatepost... he said, with some disgust.

Some guys have confided they don't like women with backless tops or dresses.  I feel the same, but my friend the other night said he didn't mind. 

Second man:

Him: There are some very able dancers I don’t enjoy dancing with because they seem to have a funny attitude. 

Her: I agree.  Sometimes a dancer is great but the personalities just don't click.   If it's like that with women, I notice it's because often it's that I don't trust them.

Him: The main reason for not dancing with a woman would be if she has next to no dancing ability. 

But he said he danced with "no-hopers" if they were already friends - and admitted this was a brutal term.

Why he doesn't want to dance with her is not, actually, her problem. These are things he feels, that are not necessarily what everyone feels.

*

Hay muchas razones personales por las que puede que él no quiera bailar con ella. Quizá piense que es demasiado gordita, demasiado pequeña, demasiado alta, demasiado vieja, demasiado marimacho, que huele mal, que no le gusta su perfume, que se apoya demasiado en él, o que es demasiado rígida.  Para muchos hombres, sin embargo, no se trata de falta de experiencia, sobre todo si ella es joven. 

Hace unos diez años, pregunté a un hombre cómo era bailar con la pareja del profesor (una mujer joven y guapa), famosa por sus piernas acrobáticas y su estilo llamativo. Bueno, si estás a gusto siendo el marco de la puerto dijo, con cierto desagrado.

Algunos hombres me han confesado que no les gustan las mujeres con tops o vestidos sin espalda.  A mí me pasa lo mismo, pero mi amigo de la noche pasada me dijo que no le importaba. 

Segundo hombre:

Él: Hay algunas bailarinas muy capaces con los que no disfruto bailando porque parecen tener una actitud rara. 

Ella: Estoy de acuerdo.  A veces una bailarína es estupendo, pero las personalidades no encajan.   Si es así con las mujeres, lo noto porque a menudo es que no confío en ellas.

Él: La razón principal para no bailar con una mujer sería si no tiene casi ninguna habilidad para el baile. Pero dijo que bailaba con las "sin-esperenzas" si ya eran amigas, y admitió que era un término brutal.

Por qué él no quiere bailar con ella no es, en realidad, problema de ella. Son cosas que él siente, que no son necesariamente lo que siente todo el mundo.

Stalemate / Quién no se moja el culo no pesca peces

In chess, stalemate is when In chess, stalemate is when the player can do nothing more. In Spanish it's called the "drowned king."

"Stalemate" is not a fun word in English but then the state of two people wanting to dance with one another but neither of them daring, is not fun either. They have missed their opportunity and are stuck. 

The Spanish title, translated as "He who doesn't get his arse wet, won't catch fish," was given by a Catalan friend to whom I was trying to explain the concept.  More politely, you can avoid anatomical references and use the impersonal, reflexive "se": El que quiera peces, que se moje:  he who doesn't get wet, won't catch fish. The Spanish certainly conveys the idea of needing to risk something to gain something but the English equivalent:  "There's no such thing as a free lunch" has a different sense - of having to pay later for something that you benefit from today.

In life, as in the milonga, sometimes, we think no move to invite or to signal availability is a rejection, when actually, it's simply that neither of two people, for some reason, think it's their turn to signal interest and then you can miss out.  I experienced, in the milonga, a misunderstanding like this that lasted the best part of ten years. Luckily, a change of circumstance offered a fresh start and we began dancing. Sometimes you are just waiting for the right time, and it can take...a while. 

Maybe the clue is in the picture: sometimes it's worth taking a risk and not overthinking, because how much do you really risk anyway?

*

En ajedrez, el rey ahogado —o simplemente ahogado— es una situación que se produce cuando cuando el jugador no puede hacer nada más. El equivalente en inglés es "stalemate". "Stalemate" no es una palabra divertida en inglés.  En inglés, "stale" se asocia al pan o al pastel que ya ha pasado su mejor momento: "stale bread" es pan duro. 

El estado de dos personas que quieren bailar entre sí, pero ninguna de las dos se atreve, tampoco es divertido. Han perdido su oportunidad y están atascados.  El título en españo me lo dio un amigo catalán al que intentaba explicar el concepto.  Más cortés, se puede evitar las referencias anatómicas utilizando el "se" impersonal y reflexivo: El que quiera peces, que se moje. El español transmite sin duda la idea de necesitar arriesgar algo para ganar algo, pero el equivalente en inglés: "There's no such thing as a free lunch" (No existe un almuerzo gratis) tiene un sentido diferente: el de tener que pagar más tarde por algo de lo que te beneficias hoy.

En la milonga, como en la vida, ninguna de unas dos personas, por cualquier razón, podría pensar que es su turno de mostrar interés en la otra. Pues, la otra puede pensar que esa supuestamente falta de interés es un rechazo. Así, te lo puedes perder.

Yo viví, en la milonga, un malentendido como éste que duró casi diez años. Por suerte, un cambio de circunstancias nos ofreció una nueva oportunidad y empezamos a bailar. A veces sólo se está esperando el momento justo, y puede llevar un buen rato.

Quizá la pista esté en la imagen de arriba. Merece la pena atreverse, y no darse vueltas, porque al final ¿cuánto arriesgas realmente?

Estoy muy agradecida a Pepe y a Reinaldo por su ayuda con la traducción. Cualquier error restante es sólo mío.

Rejection cuts both ways / El rechazo es bidireccional

ArtsyBee

Rejection cuts both ways, in dance as in life. It isn’t just the woman who rejects the guy, by looking away.  If the guy doesn’t respond to the woman “signalling” I’m interested, it’s also a "no thanks", albeit of the subtlest kind, even if that isn't what it feels like.

*

El rechazo puede darse por ambas partes, en el baile, como en la vida. No es, como se suele pensar, sólo la mujer la que rechaza al hombre, apartando la mirada. Si él no responde a la la señal, o la "provocación" de la mujer , también es un "No, gracias".

Individuality (revisited)

 

dicklyon CC BY-SA 4.0

 

This piece was drafted in January, for some reason was never published but via the recent piece on Authenticity has come round again.

I was reminded recently, through conversation, of a piece seven years old now: Standardisation and Individuality It contrasted individuality, uniqueness, creativity and the personal against the store bought, the fabricated, the mass produced.

 

Even more recently I came across the eerie, mocking French version of the famous Malvina Reynolds' protest song "Little Boxes" (1962), which is an amplification of that concern about standardisation.  What happens when we start standardising not just products and food, but education, work, human lives and expectations at a societal level? 

So why, 50 years on from Reynolds' song, with an eye on the future and a glance to the past, are we, as a society still fixated on standardisation and homogeneity and if, so, why?  Because it's predictable? Because it's reliable? Because it's safe? And if so, what then is the trade-off? What do we lose?

Pete Seeger also covered Reynolds' song. It's just a guy with a banjo singing  a very simple song. George Brassens - for decades, my favourite French singer - takes the same, unadorned approach to performance.  He is clearly not a well man in this video singing 'La Mauvaise Reputation', a song about going your own way, despite the disapproval of others. That's the flip side of individuality - not everyone likes it.  Most of society is built around the idea of conforming and some are more that way inclined than others. 

Brassens' songs are inimitable:  ostensibly simple but layered, simultaneously dirty, funny, savage, smart, controversially ambiguous - and literary.  He often used the past historic tense - usually reserved for literary texts. They are deeply personal, entirely unique.  While his songs have, hopelessly, been copied, as far as I know, he did not himself copy other songs in the way that, say, 'Le premier bonheur du jour' (Francoise Hardy, 1963) has been redone again and again - including a bizarre psychedelic version by Brazilian group Os Mutantes and as a disturbing, unsettling version by Francoiz Breut a counterpoint to this rather saccharine and sentimental song that trades mostly upon its 7 note, catchy scale.  

Chez Brassens, the guitar is usually distinctively rhythmic and the music could hardly be more spare, but it amplifies, and enlivens that poetry.  There is something vulnerable, courageous, appealing about one human, their own voice accompanied only by the instrument they play. There is no fanfare, no backing, no reverb and, best of all, no affectation. 

I think of my favourite dancers and they are guys who feel and interpret the music in wholly individual ways. They are the guys who like to dance the rhythmic music with the energy it needs and guys or who embrace the silence as much as the music, it's in the way they embrace me or simply the way they interpret the music. If they all came in standardised bodies and I was blindfolded I would still know who they are because of that individuality. 

* 

Este artículo se redactó en enero, por alguna razón nunca se publicó, pero vuelve a ser relevante tras el reciente artículo sobre la Autenticidad.

Hace poco, a través de una conversación, me acordé de un artículo que ya tiene siete años: En él se contraponía la individualidad, la singularidad, la creatividad y lo personal a lo comprado, lo fabricado y lo producido en serie.

Más recientemente aún, me encontré con la inquietante y burlona versión francesa de la famosa canción de protesta de Malvina Reynolds "Little Boxes" (1962), que es una amplificación de esa preocupación por la estandarización.  ¿Qué ocurre cuando empezamos a estandarizar no sólo los productos y los alimentos, sino la educación, el trabajo, las vidas humanas y las expectativas a nivel social? 

Entonces, ¿por qué, 50 años después de la canción de Reynolds, con la vista puesta en el futuro y una mirada al pasado, seguimos obsesionados como sociedad con la estandarización y la homogeneidad y, si es así, por qué?  ¿Porque es predecible? ¿Porque es fiable? ¿Porque es seguro? Y si es así, ¿cuál es la compensación? ¿Qué perdemos?

Pete Seeger también versionó la canción de Reynolds. Es sólo un tipo con un banjo cantando una canción muy sencilla. George Brassens -desde hace décadas, mi cantante francés favorito- adopta el mismo enfoque de interpretación, sin adornos.  Está claro que no es un hombre en buen salud en este vídeo cantando "La Mauvaise Reputation", una canción sobre seguir tu propio camino, a pesar de la desaprobación de los demás. Esa es la otra cara de la individualidad: no a todo el mundo le gusta.  La mayor parte de la sociedad está construida en torno a la idea de conformarse, y algunos son más proclives a ello que otros. 

Las canciones de Brassens son inimitables: ostensiblemente sencillas pero estratificadas, simultáneamente sucias, divertidas, salvajes, inteligentes, polémicamente ambiguas... y literarias.  A menudo utilizaba el tiempo histórico pasado, normalmente reservado a los textos literarios. Son profundamente personales, totalmente únicas.  Aunque sus canciones han sido irremediablemente copiadas, que yo sepa, él mismo no copió otras canciones del modo en que, por ejemplo, "Le premier bonheur du jour" (Françoise Hardy, 1963) ha sido rehecha una y otra vez, incluida una extraña versión psicodélica del grupo brasileño Os Mutantes y una versión inquietante y perturbadora de Françoiz Breut. Es un contrapunto a esta canción más bien sacarina y sentimental que se basa principalmente en su pegadiza escala de 7 notas.  

Chez Brassens, la guitarra suele ser marcadamente rítmica y la música difícilmente podría ser más parca, pero amplifica y aviva esa poesía.  Hay algo vulnerable, valiente, atractivo en un ser humano, en su propia voz acompañada únicamente por el instrumento que toca. No hay fanfarria, ni acompañamiento, ni reverberación y, lo mejor de todo, ninguna afectación. 

Pienso en mis bailarines favoritos y son hombres que sienten e interpretan la música de formas totalmente individuales. Son tipos a los que les gusta bailar la música rítmica con la energía que necesita y tipos o que abrazan el silencio tanto como la música, ya sea en la forma en que me abrazan o simplemente en la forma en que interpretan la música. Si todos vinieran con cuerpos estandarizados y me vendaran los ojos, seguiría sabiendo quiénes son gracias a esa individualidad. 

Opportunity / Oportunidad

During the last week of March, for just a few days breeze brought the fragrance of this blossom across my path. It was utterly delightful, appreciated even more for its transience and in the knowledge that had I not gone out, or on that day or at that time, I might never have experienced it.

The opportunity to dance in the milonga is like that blossom, there for a few mere seconds for the dancer to experience and respond.

* 

En la última semana de marzo, durante unos días, la brisa trajo la fragancia de esta flor a mi camino. Era deliciosa, apreciada aún más por lo efímero, por saber que si no hubiera salido, o en ese día o en ese momento, quizá nunca la habría experimentado.  

La oportunidad de bailar en la milonga es como esa flor, que está ahí durante unos segundos para que el bailarín la experimente y responda.

Estoy muy agradecida a Ale por su ayuda con la traducción. Cualquier error restante es sólo mío.

Authenticity

When I looked up "authentic" in my photos, this is what came back.  The embrace, the expressions are all authentic.  The branding on the shorts decidedly isn't; quite the opposite, it's a form of standardisation.

I have been trying all manner of things to understand why I have continued chest and muscle pain on my left side, from the neck, down the shoulder and arm and to seek relief.  

Self-guided stretching and breathwork seemed to help. Meditation has also been useful. The old adage says time can be a great healer and I was getting better, ridiculously slowly.  Chest pain became palpitations, the palpitations became fewer, the muscle pain is less, at least while I keep up the exercises.  

Six weeks after ending up in hospital, which is now almost  two weeks ago, I went to a double milonga and sat with a younger friend during the first one.  We went out for dinner and then to the next milonga.  It was a lovely, social evening - nice dances, connections, compliments chat, especially with my dinner companion.  It was perhaps towards the end of the first milonga and certainly during dinner that the chest pain came back with a vengeance for no good reason at all that I could discern. I hadn't been dancing excessively. I decided I needed to sit on my own during the second milonga and told my friend they would get more dancing not sitting apart with me, but among the people, which was true  This brought little relief though.  I tried to ignore the pain and discomfort, eventually driving home, wondering if that was wise.  That relapse has continued though I now have a toolkit to address it. 

An Argentinian I chatted with recently said he was interested in trying meditation.  

- But you seem a very calm guy.

- I am, generally but I had panic attacks some years ago.  

He had done 'bioenergetics' to help with that, which seems to be physical movement, grounding and breathwork to unblock emotional or psychologically induced stress or tension that is causing pain in the body. It sounded just the ticket. 

I mentioned the mystery of my recent relapse.  

- You were afraid, he said.  Maybe you thought the same thing would happen with this other younger person.   

- I didn't feel afraid, I said.  That person is a different character from the one implicated in that harm and obviously I am very careful now. I was having a lovely time in the milongas apart from those symptoms.  

- Something in you was scared, he repeated.   

If the doctor is right that my heart is OK, then so far it seems the only explanation. 

His exercises suggestion was to stand with the knees flexed, arms above the head, eyes and mouth open The idea is you connect with the physical feeling and the emotion that is causing the pain.  I felt I had worked through those emotions enough already and didn't know what I was looking for.  Maybe that was the issue but the stance felt weird and I looked for another.

The one I found was to simply bounce gently on flexed knees and gradually shake out your shoulders and arms.  This felt good.  My Fitbit buzzed, saying I was earning "Active Minutes" when your heart rate is elevated and earning what are in essence exercise points.  To my horror, my heart rate had tripled to 190 with very little exertion, a number I never achieved even when put on a treadmill at the cardiologists.  Either that or the Fitbit wasn't accurate.  I wasn't tired or out of breath and I felt good.  I sat down in a hurry and my heartrate immediately returned to normal.

I was in no hurry to repeat that exercise but there seemed to be something in that "shake it out into the ground" idea.  There was an obvious similarity with some dance so I decided to try solo dance instead, guided by video.  The first video indeed was all about shaking it out, only more fun and with music. 

I am not (?yet) a solo dancer.  I have the same fear of solo dancing that I have had all my life.  I love tango because it's a shared endeavour.  I love salsa, because with the right person it can be really fun but a wave of panic comes over me if the guy lets go for more than a second.

The video was regular people led by a teacher proposing simple moves.  The overwhelming message in this video and others was to dance your own way:  not to copy or follow anyone else, that dance is about being individual and authentic.  

That individuality, originality, uniqueness that is particularly evident in the way guys dance in tango, is also the kind of tango dancing I love, the only kind, in fact. It is about an individual interpretation of the music, a wholly unique relationship with the partner.  It has nothing to do with steps. 

It is odd that on the one hand some of us, or some of the time, we seem to want the reliability and security of standardisation in life generally, in our cars, in the products we buy, certainly, I am sure in the healthcare we receive, but when we have that standardisation all the time, the lack of individuality deadens our souls.

Authenticity is from the word "authentes", one acting on one's own authority," from autos "self" + hentes "doer, being" "to accomplish, achieve". 

Being authentic then, would seem to be about being guided by oneself, being yourself, which requires confidence.  Where does confidence come from? Some combination of instinct, experience and good models and mentors, perhaps. 

Knowing people

Gordon Johnson

On Sunday, I danced in Milonga La Garua (free entry), in Bilbao's casco viejo.  About a year ago, for a few months I had enjoyed Spanish/English conversation exchange online with a woman from that city who happens to dance tango. I sent her a message on Sunday lunchtime when we arrived in Bilbao to say I was planning to go to the milonga that evening and it would be a lovely opportunity to meet her if she was going.  She spotted me when I arrived, we danced.  She was a wonderful dancer.

The barman was great with my thirteen year old son, feeding him peanuts and keeping half an eye on him.   

We all know one another here, one of the habitués said.  It was a nice atmosphere. The vice-president of the tango association that organised the milonga kindly and chattily collected me from the end of that bar by the entrance where the non-dancers sit and brought me to the far end where the dancers congregated.  She introduced me and some Spanish visitors to the milonga at large.

Someone who travels told me this part of Spain: Bilbao, a small village near San Sebastian and the Basque country in to France is one of the best areas for dancing. 

- Why is that - because the music is better?   

- The music, the dancing, the organisation.

My friend and her friends gave me tips about the good guy dancers, the men recommended women, which became a small number of couples and individuals.  By quiet words and looking and in the mysterious way of the milonga, connections rippled through the air.  I had a great evening.  

It can really help to know people.

Poco ma buono

Pictured, a jam I made last year from the exceptionally fragrant petals of rosa rugosa, the Japanese or beach rose, a non-native species here, common almost to the point of invasiveness.  Several invasive species are edible: Japanese knotweed, Himalayan balsalm, ground elder - a potherb brought by the Romans.  

I read recently that apparently, what we should do with desserts that are, after all, not good for us, is half them with someone.  Thus, the pleasure of the flavour and of the sharing and less of the harm.  

It is a concept that reminds me of something the mother of an Italian friend and model said thirty years ago:  poco, ma buono:  little but good.  She mentioned it in the context of having a few good clothes, but good ones rather  than many of inferior quality. 

The same idea applies in the milonga.  If you stand firm on walk-up invitations and accept only guys who observe milonga etiquette then you may have a few dances but good ones.

*

En la foto, una mermelada que hice el año pasado con los pétalos excepcionalmente perfumados de la rosa rugosa, la rosa japonesa o de playa, una especie no autóctona aquí, común casi invasora.  Varias especies invasoras son comestibles: Centidonia japonesa, bálsamo del Himalaya, angélica menor, una hierba traída por los romanos.  

Hace poco leí que, al parecer, lo que deberíamos hacer con los postres que no son buenos para nosotros, es reducirlos a la mitad con alguien.  Así, se comparte el placer del sabor y nos causa menos daño.

Es un concepto que me recuerda algo que dijo hace treinta años la madre de una amiga y modela italiana:  "poco, ma buono": poco pero bueno.  Ella lo mencionaba en el contexto de tener poca ropa buena, pero buena, en lugar de mucha de calidad inferior. 

La misma idea se aplica en la milonga.  Si se mantiene firme en las invitaciones que no han sido por mirada y se acepta sólo a hombres que observen la etiqueta de la milonga, puede que tengas pocos bailes, pero buenos.

Estoy muy agradecida a Pepe por su ayuda con la traducción. Cualquier error restante es sólo mío.

Muggers / Asaltantes

Female robber fly

The female robber fly (Asilidae), also called 'assassins' lie in wait and ambush their prey.

In the milonga, 'muggers' are (usually) women who deliberately get up to dance with a guy, whose invitation they know was meant for someone else, hence mugging. They hijack an invitation, they steal, they intervene between the guy and the woman he intended before he can reach her. They pretend innocuousness and use social embarrassment from both parties to their advantage. It is out and out manipulation of the grossest kind to get what you want for your own ends. It is shocking to experience as the female victim.

Right-thinking guys tactfully do not accept the mugger, even if she is young and pretty. Janis disagrees. She calls a man who dances with a mugger "being a gentleman" but I admire the guy with the character that sees mugging for what it is and who acts accordingly by tactfully indicating his actual choice - and by avoiding inviting muggers.

If a woman made an honest mistake thinking they had been invited when they have not, the man, realising this, will often invite her after he has danced with the intended partner. All of this can be avoided by no woman standing up until the man has comes right up to collect the partner he wants to dance with.

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Las hembras de la mosca ladrona (Asilidae), también llamadas "asesinas", acechan y emboscan a sus presas.

En la milonga, las "asaltantes" son (normalmente) mujeres que se levantan deliberadamente para bailar con un hombre, cuya invitación saben que estaba destinada a otra persona, de ahí lo de 'asaltar'. Secuestran una invitación, roban, se interponen entre el hombre y la mujer que él pretendía antes de que pueda alcanzarla. Fingen inocencia y utilizan la vergüenza social de ambas partes en su beneficio. Es manipulación pura y dura para conseguir lo que quieren. Es chocante experimentarlo como mujer víctima.

Los hombres que piensan correctamente no aceptan a la atracadora, aunque sea joven y guapa. Janis no está de acuerdo. Ella llama "ser un caballero" a un hombre que baila con una atracadora, pero yo admiro al tipo con carácter que ve el atraco como lo que es y que actúa en consecuencia indicando su elección real, y evitando invitar después a las atracadoras.

Si una mujer cometió un error honesto pensando que había sido invitada cuando, en realidad, él pretendía a la mujer que estaba cerca de ella, el hombre, al darse cuenta de ello, a menudo le invitará después de que haya bailado con la pareja prevista. Todo esto podría evitarse si ninguna mujer se levanta hasta que el hombre se acerque a recoger con la que quiere bailar.

Estoy muy agradecida a Eloísa por su ayuda con la traducción. Cualquier error restante es sólo mío.

Indiscriminate / Indiscriminada

Pxfuel

Some women, even good women dancers, often seem to accept dances from more or less any guy to be "social", to appear popular, because they fancy him, because they just like being up and moving, because they don't care that much who they dance with. 

One of the interesting insights from dancing both roles is seeing things from a different perspective.  I am not alone in thinking "Why would I dance with her, if that's what she enjoy?"  I know good male dancers who think the same.  It's like saying why would we go for a meal if what she likes is fast food? 

Tastes are just different, that's all, but it is useful to see what people like before you go rushing in there

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Algunas mujeres, incluso buenas bailarinas, a menudo parecen aceptar bailes de más o menos cualquier hombre o para ser "sociales", para parecer populares, porque les apetece, porque simplemente les gusta estar de pie y en movimiento, porque no les importa tanto con quien bailan. 

Cuando se baila ambos papeles, una de las ventajas es la oportunidad de ver las cosas desde otra perspectiva.  Sé que no soy la única que a veces piensa: "¿Por qué voy a bailar con ella, si es con él con quien le gusta bailar?"  Es como, ¿por qué íbamos a salir a comer si a ella le gusta la comida rápida?

Simplemente, los gustos son diferentes, pero es útil ver lo que le gusta a la gente antes de precipitarse