From the moment I stepped on the dance floor, I knew I was in way over my head.

I was a newbie at the Blue Dragonfly, a Thursday night salsa dancing hot spot in Portland, Oregon.  Only moments earlier, I had made the mistake of approaching one of the best dancers in the place, a beautiful woman with exotic tattoos.  Although we hadn’t yet begun dancing, the butterflies in my stomach were already doing the mambo.

When the music kicked in, I boldly attempted the most complicated move I had learned in beginning salsa class—a hard-to-execute combination of spins, quick pivots, twists and turns.  The result was memorable:  an awkward tangle of arms, legs and bruised toes.