Your iPod has over 30 versions of La Cumparsita
You open your eyes in the morning, you start humming "Zorzal" and dance it in your mind with your favorite milonga partner
You're feeling angst in your life, and you know exactly what's going to make it go away.
A coworker walks into your office while "Arrabalera" is playing and asks,
"What's with the polka?" and you seriously consider never speaking to them again.
Tango has become your philosophy
You have an MDiv yet you preach the "gospel of tango" more than "the Gospel" ( true story)
You have crossed an ocean just to dance with a favorite partner
You practice in front and in the elevator reguardless if you are alone or if one of the head officers of the company are standing next to you
You swear you will quit this crazy dance, and are back at the next milonga
You find yourself dressing a stranger in your eyes in 3" heels and a black dress.
You and another contractor are workin on a move to Calo two stories above the ground, tool belts clinking.
You realize the milonga is where you see all your friends.
You laugh out loud at bad tango in movies.
You walk backwards to the refrigerator.
You walk into new buildings and notice potential dance space to Tango.
Your friends offer to "do an intervention."
Your family actually GIVES you clothes in which to dance
(in which they'd be embarrassed to see you on the street.)
You've remodeled your house mainly to maximize dance space.
Entering a lift, and making a side step with your left foot to give way to somebody going out,
then you don't step forward with your right foot. You change weight on the double-time,
and you enter the lift with a left-foot step.
You move because your landlord will not let you remove the coconut
carpets - and there isn't really room for practicing anyway.
You wake up in the middle of the night and hear tango music - only to
realise it's inside your head.
If there is not milonga on a Friday night - you arrange one!
You wear your heels to work. They are handsewn and so comfortable.
Your feet love them. Why wear any other shoes?
And you keep an extra pair in your bag.
You have started taking Spanish private lessons - from a Porteño.
You cross country lines to tango!
You practice your balance - and sometimes boleos -
when waiting to cross the street.
You say, "We can meet .... Thursday or maybe Monday -
oh, no I am practicing with Thomas.... how about Monday next week?"
Your first question when buying clothes is "but can I dance in it?" -
used to be "but can I wear it to work?"
You are addicted to the tango zone
You bring your heels to work so you can practice on your breaks. (this is a true story!)
You prefer to listen to the original recording of Por Una Cabeza
You fantasize about being Luciana Pedraza.
You fantasize about being Robert Duvall's dreamgirl.
You copied all your tango music to your office computer and that's all you listen to 9 - 5
You've danced with one of the biggies and survived.
You own a tango t-shirt and wear it in public - constantly.
You go through withdrawal without at least one tango-high per week.
You realize you are being swept away.
Your descriptions of tango have shifted from "unbounded enthusiasm" to "you wouldn't understand...
Your friends are secrectly plotting to kidnap you for a week of serious deprogramming.
You know who Carlos Gardel is.
You've stopped saying sorry when you screw up - you just tango out of the trouble you got into.
You keep a pair of dance shoes in your car.
You wish you paid more attention in high school Spanish class.
You've sold or moved most of your furniture to give yourself practice space.
You make sure you never run out of breath mints.
You no longer freak out at the prospect of leading a boleo.
You cross state lines to tango.
You've had the big tango-fight with your partner.
You listen to tango music when you're not at a practica or milonga.
You bring your ankles and knees together all the time, even in the elevator.
You plan the rest of your social life so it doesn't conflict with tango nights.
You own a bootleg copy of Tango Bar.
Your wardrobe is predominantly black.
Ocho is more than just a number.
Your fantasy travel destination is Buenos Aires.
You are unable to schedule major surgery without compromising tango commitments.
You now view the world in terms of people who tango and those unfortunate souls who don't.
You've progressed from the practice hold to full contact tango.
You have to work hard to maintain non-tango friendships (if you have any left).
You've been dancing a year and still don't get bored talking tango.
You have developed the ability to turn any conversation to tango within 2 minutes.
You no longer have parties at your house; you host milongas.
When you look in the mirror, you are usually looking at your feet.
Your shopping cart often substitutes as your dance partner.
You've figured out how to find the hidden tango sections in any record store.
Tango never fails to energize, no matter how tired you are.
Before traveling, you check out the net for tango events in that area.
You are willing to spend twice as much time driving to a milonga as you actually dance.
You've danced long enough to realize that you want to keep it simple.
You automatically do something Tango-ish whenever you navigate through a crowd.
Your computer passwords at work are always phrases related to tango.
Your ear has been trained to recognize the tango possibilities in all forms of music.
You remember the place and partner with whom you danced your first real tango.
Subtle moves have begun to reveal themselves (without lessons).
You practice the roles of both lead and follow to fully understand the dance.
You maintain a phone list of the hardcore tangueros in your area.
You have at least one Kristine Hansen tango poster framed and hanging at home and/or work.
You bring your own tango CDs to wedding receptions to ensure that your requests will be played.
Tango has diminished, if not ruined, the appeal of every other dance you ever did.
Little else in your life gets done compared to your pre-tango days.
Your passion-index is much higher compared to your pre-tango days.
What pre-tango days?
You have become nocturnal.
You regularly shop the local Salvation Army to suppliment your tango wardrobe.
You wear vintage clothes every week that most people wear once a year to the office Christmas party.
You have a Boa (not a snake) in your closet.
Friends insert the word Tango before your given name when introducing you to others.
You have been spotted dancing tango in parking lots.
Posters for upcoming tango events are always magnetized to your refrigerator.
You have developed a healthy fear of foot injuries.
Your interest in shoes can easily be mistaken for a fetish.
The amount of time you spend on personal grooming has doubled.
You are considering the purchase of clothing not commonly seen in public.
You realize how rare it is to find such passion in life.
You have discovered the pleasures of barefoot tango.
You dance tango in your mind.
You have to dance. You have to dance.
You soak your tired little feet in tango toes foot soak.
You seek out stories from those who have danced tango in other countries.
One of the most exciting things in the world is to dance tango with a complete stranger.
You have been known to sing in the ear of your partner while dancing.
You recognize that special glow in the night as another hotbed of tango erupts in the distance.
Your favorite color is tango black.
Friends and family automatically assume that you want tango-related birthday gifts.
You have been given a gift of private tango lessons.
You have learned the Klassic Kenny move.
You have practiced with Rebecca's Follower's Technique video at least three times.
Your mind visualizes and calibrates square-footage in terms of open dance space.
The thought enters your mind that Johnny Cash was aware of tango black long before you.
You have found yourself caught in unusual situations that are best described as a Tango Moment.
You become associated with a signature move.
You have hosted someone from Buenos Aires at your home.
You have been known to forget where you parked your car after several hours of tango.
You have finally heard one too many Hugo Diaz tunes.
The Tango Police have you under suspicion.
You will be dancing tango for the rest of your life.
You no longer fear the lost-and-found that may happen during a dance.
Your dancing shoes always look well-used.
You can't resist dancing a few tango steps whenever you cross a wooden floor.
You've gone home after a dance with someone else's glitter on your face.
Shoes have new focus in your life.
You find that you sandwich feet far more often than shake hands.
You have reached a level where your tango reflects your spirit.
You have considered crossing that line to become a tango gypsy.
You find that dancers drawn to tango are the most interesting passionate people you know.
There is no question that you will always work to improve your dance.
You draw satisfaction every time you break someone's Hollywood misconception of the dance.
You realize that dance presence is as important as dance moves.
You have trembled in someone's arms.
Whenever you wait in line, you must fight the urge to randomly gancho those around you.
Tango Hugs...mmmmmmm!
You've put your house on the market to support your tango habit.
You're thinking of calling your first born son Osvaldo.
You constantly have bruises on your legs and feet.
You eat your main meal of the day at two in the morning.
You saw the film "The Tango Lesson" fourteen times.
You dream about dancing with Pablo Veron.
Your respect for others is measured by how well they can dance.
You feel exhausted but come alive when you hear a tango and hit the dancefloor.
You have a tango bumper sticker.
You carry baggage to social events even though you aren't planning a trip.
You feel sensual and sexy.
I realized that there was as much "Tango Email" as "Work Email" in my inbox in the morning.
You have a pair of tango shoes in your holiday bag.
You have the perfume of your partner in your hair a week after the milonga.
You don't care how "sweet" your partner's shirt is if he is a good dancer.
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