Published: November 27, 2006
My husband and I had just come from a Saturday night contra dance at Metropolitan-Duane Hall on 13th Street in the West Village. Going down the stairs to get the F train home to Brooklyn, we heard vibrant violin music resonating from the platform.
Once there, we saw two beautiful young musicians carrying on a spirited musical flirtation, smiling and challenging each other with exciting riffs on their classical (Beethoven? Brahms?) duets. After carrying on like this for a while, they began to play a waltz.
We had noticed some other folks from our dance also waiting and suddenly, one group, a man and two women, grasped hands and began to waltz. Soon another couple, two men, followed suit. My husband turned to me, dropped his bags and raised his arms, inviting me to dance.
I hesitated momentarily ‹ usually I¹m shy about drawing attention to myself in public ‹ but then I joined in. After all, who could resist waltzing on the Brooklyn-bound F platform while serenaded by two lovely, inspiring musicians on a Saturday night?
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