It is the Monday place again. The Slovenian Hall. I like this building... with its lofty ceilings, old hardwood floors, and the distinctive smell... like the pages of an old book, or a dusty attic, or the clothes of an old woman.... something earthy, something old, something sad. It is an historical building but yet I have never cared reading the history of it. Using my imagination sometimes works better for me. Knowing the details, finding out the truth, seeing the reality kills the magic. When the tango is playing this place becomes even more mystical to me. Especially with its locked doors upstairs. I always wonder what's hidden behind these tall doors. Under the dimmed lights, with tango echoing on the walls I feel goosebumps and quickly run back downstairs like a kid every time I attempt to turn the knobs of these secretive rooms. Yes, I like this place... but would never want to be alone here.
It's almost eleven and most of the people are leaving. There are only two couples left on the dace floor. I am chatting with a friend while waiting for the tanda to end. Then suddenly I see someone sitting at the very far end of the room... right near my seat. It is impossible not to notice him because he has a very white face, it almost looks powdered. His hair is very dark, maybe black and combed all the way back. He is dressed all in black. I haven't seen him earlier, he must have come a while ago when I was upstairs wondering. I ask my friend if she knows him but she says she has never seen him before. Curious about the new face I approach towards my seat. I have that 'I don't care a whit' attitude and refuse to look at him but his white face keeps catching my sight. He stays quiet for the whole tanda without moving but then slowly he stands up and begins to walk towards me. Suddenly I see a very bony hand extended right in front of my eyes. I look up and there he is, with his white face...and sharp nose... and his thin, deep red lips are almost whispering, "Would you like to dance?".
This man reminds me of someone... someone that I know very well. I hold his ice-cold hand and arise. He keeps me in close embrace... may be a little too close, or I should say tight. I really enjoy his leading, his style is not showy but clear and elegant. After the first song he releases me and locks his keen dark eyes on mine. Suddenly I startle. Something about this man scares the hell out of me. Is it his eyes sneaking under those thick brows, his powder-white face, his thin red lips, his black hair combed all the way back, his bony, cold hands? All of a sudden I put the whole picture together. Now I know who he looks like... The Count... Count Dracula. The only thing missing from this picture is his sharp teeth... but he hasn't smiled yet.
During our dance, in his tight embrace, I try not to think about this creepy resemblance but the thought of his teeth ending on my neck does not leave me alone. At the end of the tanda he holds my hand in between his cold palms and says, "You are a very good dancer" ... then thanks me. With my eyes I follow him walk towards the door, lean against the wall and slowly cross his arms, then watch the room motionless again. He does not talk or dance with anyone else. As I pass by him to go near my friend who is standing by the food he holds my shoulder and stops me. "Thank you again for the lovely dance" he says, "I have to leave, it's almost midnight... just wanted to say bye"...
"I would like to introduce you to my friend" I say, hoping to talk to him a little more or may be see his teeth if I can make him smile, "Would you like to have some wine with us?"
"Thank you but I really have to go, goodbye again" he replies and then he locks his keen dark eyes on mine again and says, "By the way, I don't drink.... wine"
