Oh, my aching back

So, Husbando and I decide to go on vaction. To, yes, Argentina.  This is all due to Husbando’s sudden infatuation with tango. Thing is, neither of us has an updated passport. So we decided to do Argentina in Boston. We even found an Argetinian restaurant to try in Arlington before we go to some milongas (tango social dancers).

Who’d have thunk? Tango is a big deal, and there are tons of handsome young people (and a couple creakers like us) who show up to these milongas. We went to one in NYC and the scruffiest, neoNazi-est looking kid turned out to be the most elegant dancer on the floor that night. At risk of sounding like Prairie Home Companion, the girls really are all beautiful and the men all handsome.

Husbando and I do our own version of Tango, which we call The Anglo Tango — kinda stiff, not a lot of sex. But we’re having fun.

Or would have if I hadn’t managed to yank my back out of commission again.


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