Sunday, July 19, 2009

SOMETHING STINKY THIS WAY COMES

In the tango jungle, one finds many a strange and exotic species. There is one peculiar creature that migrates to the southern hemisphere from his native Italy at least once a year to partake in the elaborate mating ritual that is the tango. There are many subspecies of this particular bicho that many females at the milonga have enjoyed studying up-close-and-personal, such as the sweet-smelling and physically attractive Tanus Hottius, but the Tanus Odiferous is probably the rarest of this group. I have only discovered two very closely-related subjects in existence in the past four and a half years.

Although the slightly bloated physique of the Tanus Odiferous suggests a more distant relation to the Tanus Hottius, our subject, like most in this family of exotica, shares the former's impressive terpsichorean abilities. And, unfortunately, that's where the similarities end.

The tragedy of his aromaticness marks a shocking contrast to his dancing, which pleases Her Divinity. In his less pungent, yet still smellificent state, I have enjoyed forays on the dance floor with him. Of course, after these occasions, my consort ordered me to perform a ritual cleansing before joining him in bed, but it was worth the price of admission for a great tanda. However, a few nights ago in El Beso, the Tanus Odiferous was particularly pungent. And when I write, "pungent," I mean he raised the bar on stinky, elevated reeking to an art form, broke all olfactory boundaries. El Macho summed it up succinctly: El mal olor se pudrio (The stinkiness rotted.). It was a heady, complex bouquet of rotting meat, sweaty feet, rotten eggs, musty clothes, kitchen grease, and Roquefort dating back to the French Revolution. Dude. Was. Ripe.

As he made his way around the perimeter of the room with his most unfortunate partner, both men and women turned their heads away in disgust. In her beneficence, the TG was feeling mighty sorry for him watching people's reactions. She thought, “What gives, O, Putrid One? Dost thou not know that thy powerful odor rises to the heavens, and offends greatly both mortal and divine alike?” In the midst of her reverie, El Macho dared look at her straight in the eyes and warned her: "If you dance with him, I swear I will book you a room in a hotel because you'll just end up polluting the house with his smell. It'll take forever to clear out."

Dag. Harsh.

I'd like to say that my own Italiano was exaggerating, but, if anyone knows about olores, it's him. He reveled in his own barely tolerable odors when we first started knockin' boots. But love (and lots of pleading and nagging on my part) changes you, and now he's a normal daily showerer. The point is that with his Italian schnoz, he can pick up scents like a dog, embarrassing scents I don't dare mention here. So, as he walked toward me to dance, it took him a millisecond before he grabbed my hand and stepped a full 2 yards away from Tanus Odiferous, his eyes wide in wonder as he whispered, "Lo sentis?"

Yes, doll, TG did, and in her infinite wisdom, decided against sullying her outfit with Mr. Odiferous' mortal stench.

14 comments:

Debbi said...

Ha! I am 99% certain I danced with this particular species last Wednesday at El Beso! I remember thinking as I started to enter the embrace "Oh crap! Phew! Ick! I REALLY hope I don't smell like him afterwards!" And then I remember being amazed at how good he was. And then sad because I will never accept his cabeceo again, by the time we got the end of the tanda, I was slightly queasy.... I don't understand how he is not aware that he smells so bad!

londontango said...

Your description had me in hysterics. Although it is really not nice to laugh at another's misfortune. We get those here, but to add insult to injury, they don't usually dance well either. Hey ho!

Still Life in South America said...

I'm sure that he loves his own smell. Ugh--you described that too well.

Tango Goddess said...

I saw him a few days after this incident with his GF, and it seemed like he had taken a shower, or at least changed is clothes...preferrably both!
He dances so well that it is a SIN that he smells so darn bad.

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Mari said...

great post - extremely .. uh .. vivid. lol I think every community has one or two of those. Is it weird that my favorite smelling leader smells like drier sheets? Seriously, I could smell him all day...

Anatango said...

EH EH EH !!! I never have been dancing in El Beso, but right now I know that I will need REXONA, DOVE or ADIDAS FOR MEN with my cosmetics !
Trust me....I can stop dance and say...Man...You need this!!

Anatango

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Anonymous said...

.... I had a blast indeed. Evie, thank you for writing so vividly and refreshingly about our daily tang misfortune. As a man, tango dancer and perfume & cosmetic industry executive, I want to say 2 things: first ladies, get the best of him, tell him how you feel about his body smell. He might improve and you'll win a great dancer with no "mal olor". Second, some women do smell bad too...

jantango said...

I'll guess you're writing about Mxxxx from northern Italy who has a serious underarm problem. Changing shirts and using deodorant won't help. He has been dancing in BsAs for eight years and needs medical attention for his condition. I don't know why women continue dancing with him.

Terpsichoral said...

One of the things about living in BA, for me, is that the 90% of the men smell really nice. The man's perfume is usually the strongest thing I can smell, but there are some exceptions. I once stopped dancing with a man mid-tango, during the first track of the tanda AT SUNDERLAND. That was quite a breach of etiquette, but I really couldn't continue any longer because I literally felt as though I would vomit. In his case, it wasn't B.O. I could smell but some weird and nauseous mixture of unidentifiable substances (though urine was a distinct top note). So I pretended to have hurt my foot and limped off the dance floor, groaning ostentatiously.

As for your Macho man and his feelings, I used to dance salsa. I had a boyfriend at the time with rather Napoleonic tastes who asked me not to shower when I came home after salsa because 'he liked my sweat'. He quickly changed his mind, though, when I told him it wasn't MY sweat, but the sweat my dance partners dripped onto me.

www.tangoaddiction.wordpress.com

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