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Something we do that has since become almost a tradition: during the middle of a Pocket Party, we like to ask the public to get up and move around. As if to see if by stepping outside of their comfort zone, we can bring the night towards an unknown destination, somewhere unexpected.

We were slightly taken aback by the results. What we weren’t expecting was that as soon as the onlookers stood up, Daniel Melingo would jump in, making them step back, pushing them behind the wall and clearing out a space with a couple of dance moves, big enough to tango with the camera.

The Argentinian, son of a gun, told us that he would move around “a bit”. Yeah right – leaving his band on their barstools, he conquered every square inch that was available to him, sliding, turning, preaching, raising his ands and rolling his eyes, kissing the masks attached to the wall and embellishing each dance moves.

This was not the tango that we were used to, and certainly not distinguished ballroom tango. This was from the street – cheeky, cheerful, impolite, something that had somehow invited itself into a gigantic apartment and still insisted on more space.  That night, Melingo took us by storm. We followed him into the dark, stunned, amazed, drunk and happy.