Tango Provocateur (Part 1)

The Jubilee tube line was as busy as ever, even at around 9 in the evening all seats were occupied. The train driver's voice burst in with much the same information again. The public announcement system was annoyingly loud, crackling and intermittent. "....Due to an incident at....this train has to wait here ....the control signal....we will...moving shortly....soon as....the London Underground apologises .... inconvenience...!"

Since they had become stationary the heat inside the compartment had been gradually building up. It was freezing cold weather outside but inside, in that tunnel and right then, it felt hot, hot enough for everyone to want to loosen their thick winter coats, overcoats, shawls, scarves, wraps, etc. The air was stuffy, and uncomfortably stale to breath. It felt hot .

It was not easy for her to ignore their looks and stares. She was getting these attentions mostly because there was not much else to amuse some people's minds with. Many had stopped reading the free newspapers scattered around and behind their seats. To occupy their mind and to distract themselves from the wait everyone had begun looking around. To bring to an end to feeling anxious, people always look for some distractions, and she felt that she was it now. She was now the object and the reason for their distraction.

She had sat crossed legged to the left and with her thick overcoat spread to her right with one hand, and with the other holding on to her rather large bag dangling to the other side, trying to be patient. But she was aware that she did stand out. Without a doubt, amongst them she looked odd. Well, she would have looked odd among any crowds other than her own because of the way she looked.

Her dark red miniskirt, the thin black silk top showing off her well sculpted figure at its best, the lift-up bra gave her a cleavage that most women would simply envy and most men could not avert their eyes from, with her high heel shoes adding flavour to her fishnet stockings which covered her long legs and matching her elbow-long gloves, these combined with her well made up face - they all came together successfully to portray an image which many fantasies are made of for both men and women.

Nobody would believe that this woman with her classic 'provocateur' look is the very aloof shy woman who is an Information librarian. She works in some old family run construction company and her entire working hours are spent getting pestered by visitors who are often the most irritating individuals with their mind numbing conversations being about requests for files, data , stats and numbers and that their lack of respect for her "data request procedures" do drive her to near insanity on some days.

Her life used to be her work. Routines were safe. Nothing much happened other than that. Going home - leaving from work, only meant being in time to catch up with hours and hours of American TV soaps - courtesy of a very good deal from a cable company. She proudly boasted about its hundreds of channels whenever she managed to get a chance to show off her diligence on spotting this amongst all others advertised. The 18 months long contract and the fact that such an offer was no longer available to other customers made her feel good.

Socialising revolved around the odd get-togethers with her university girlfriends. The routine was that they would meet up at some convenient location not very far from their homes and go on to one of the multiplex cinemas, have some pizza/pasta before or after the movie, and they would fill all the gaps in between with gossips about the story lines of the TV soap characters which they all followed religiously. Being in very similar jobs and from the same backgrounds ensured that there was not much difference in what they all did with their lives. The odd appearance of a boyfriend material person in their lives did never seem to stretch for long enough to carry much weight in their conversations. They had learned to leave that be.

She changed. She discovered Tango. Her parallel life was born a few months ago, and now she was living two lives.

Readjusting her overcoat on her lap, she closed her eyes and imagined herself dancing with him to his favourite tango. Piazzola and him transformed her world to where she intended to go. She could not help herself but smile. She choreographed him leading her as before. She had done this for almost all of this last week. These thoughts elevated her soul and mind. She was not bothered at all how they curiously studied her and looked on. She was glad now that she had planned to be early, and regardless of these delays she did not fear arriving late.

After another 10 to 15 minutes and a few more pointless announcements, suddenly the train jolted and they were on their way.

Would he dance her again as she had day-dreamed him doing and would he find her in his heart to be his tango provocateur?

"Tango Provocateur"
A Short Story by:
MilongaCat