I am a creature in captivity.
Every time I enter a milonga, I am a creature in captivity. Never mind that I have already paid my entrada. If I thought that I could listen to music, talk to friends, and dance in peace, that would show how little I know about the transaction that really took place.
Not only am I a prospective customer before entering a milonga, I remain one once I've paid and I'm in the door. I'm a prospective purchaser of shoes, jewelry, lessons, tarot readings, rummage, and cruises. I'm a creature in captivity subject to the mercy of harpies and hucksters. The selling never stops, even though I've already paid.
I'm never sure whether I'm in a milonga or a bazaar.
The New Yorker published a sensational short story by Hari Kunzru called "Raj, Bohemiam" about monetizing personal connections. Nowhere is it more relevent than our world of tango.
#4 - The Class
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*All that David found when he returned home to make up to his wife,
Jessica, were a dark apartment and a note. Jessica was out. *
Jessica looked over the s...
You might enjoy watching this:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcZkbUH-lOc
Those are professionals.
My guess is that at milongas people are not paid to sell (even if they do sell).
Oleh Light
Oleh, that is fantastic. A real life version of the technique depicted in Kunzru's short story. I thought it was just made up!
ReplyDeleteI doubt that anyone is paid to "Astroturf" at a milonga. At milongas, the selling is overt and it never stops!
On the other hand, I think there is a huge amount of covert selling, too. It travels under the guise of charm. That can be a little hard to take, too. You think someone really likes you, but then you find out that they were dancing with you simply to entice you into lessons.
Ahem, can you say "Confiteria Ideal"?