Full bar. The best moment of the night. Everyone is sweating. He is alone, waiting for some miracle to happen. Waiting for somebody who wants to dance the rest of the night with him. He is very lucky. The miracle arrives and wants to dance. She is also alone, looking for somebody. He follows her with his eyes. She searches at the dance floor, at the tables. She finds him.
She is all flirty and with her eyes and smile invites him to dance. He approaches. She walks away. You don’t get the best things in life so easy, she thinks. He must insist. One two three times. She always walks away. Always with a provocative smile. She plays hard to get, he thinks. He must be more determined. He takes her hand. Doesn’t let her walk away again.
A loud hit and the music stops. Time also. Only two on the dance floor. Everything becomes slow, incr easi ngly slo wer. They get close to each other. They feel at each other. They share the breathing and the heartbeat. The music continues, but is much slower. Each stroke of the percussion takes forever. Its resonance extends throughout the place; is it still Salsa?
They do not speak and however, without saying a word, get to know each other. Their movements are synchronized, as if they had danced a lifetime together. They dance very slowly; Is it still Salsa? They keep feeling each other, but sometimes remember that there is a party going on around them. It is the best moment of the night. They have to give their best! So they give more, and more, and more, and their bodies react with each stroke of the congas, spread like the resonance of the contrabass and shudder at the loud attacks of the electric trombones. Each movement is converted into sound. Their body in music. There is no band but the music continues.