Le Cuba Libre

The only light was the flashing blue strobe as it swept the club. The air was hot, compact. There were people everywhere, moving and twirling and swinging and shaking and turning. The music was blaring, pumping so loud I had to yell to Karinne, although she was sitting right next to me, "I really, REALLY like this place!".

I went to Le Cuba Libre last night for salsa lessons.

The instructor, a curious mix of Latin and French ("Bonne nuit amigos!!"), stood on a raised platform for the first part of the lesson, and taught us the basic steps for the dance. When he added in a turn, the lesson officially went over my head, but I stuck it out because it was fun and silly and so dark in there, no one will remember the girl with a flower in her hair (I was trying to add a Latin twist) tripping over her feet, but laughing the whole time.

For the second part of the lesson, the boys stood on the right and the girls on the left. The men were then told to seek out a partner. As the ratio of women to men was about 2:1, I was lucky that a quiet guy in a red Hollister shirt and jeans came and grabbed my hand. He introduced himself as Julien. He didn't look very Latin (before described outfit) so I figured we would be on the same dancing level-- the bad one.

I was wrong.

He was amazing, twisting and twirling me in ways that I didn't know I could go. It was so much fun. He dipped me on the last note, then lifted me up and kissed my hand before disappearing from the dance floor. I later saw him with a partner who equaled him in skill, and it was quite a show. Jillian yelled next to me, "Its like I'm watching Dancing with the Stars, live!".