Story and Photos
Carl Lindstrom
Drunk, and on bicycles, the two of us continue our journey east on Wilshire. Dominique and I had just finished our vodka sodas at Renee's on 5th street, when we met five overbearing folk from down under, on their way to Karaoke. We decide the night would be best spent singing. Dom and I started riding, the others walked to their car. Literally one minute later, miles from karaoke, we decide the night would be best spent dancing. And it just so happened that we stopped in-front of a Salsa Bar. I lock the bikes as a car flies by with Aussies hanging out the window and screaming, "Wrrrroooonnng plaaaacccceee...."
We walk right to the middle of the dance floor and we begin to feel the salsa rhythm in our feet. Just then we are taken aback by the glowing light emanating from the two next to us. Dominique and I quickly retreat to the sidelines, in complete elation, gawking as we watch the couple move across the floor. Silent we sat as Katya Ivanova, a chirping angel plucked from the motherland, controlled our every though. It was the renaissancian-like refinement, flawlessly partnered with Brazilian-style raw beauty, that transfixed us. We didn't move for five minutes. If I called her a professional dancer I would be downplaying her brilliance and natural ability.
The song stopped as the couple bounced to the bar. Dominique and myself returning from our visual onslaught, leaped after them with money in tote.
"Can I buy you both a drink!" I belted out not being able to control the volume of my voice.
Two flashing smiles and a hesitant "yes" followed.
One thing led to another and soon we had become seemingly great friends. We found out that Katya and her partner, Javier, had just returned from Miami where the two partook in a salsa dancing convention. We also found out that she is a classical pianist, an opera singer, and a total babe.
The next day we had a rendezvous in Venice at my house. I taught her how to surf, we talked about life, played a bit of piano, and took some photos.
She informed us that she was leaving back to Moscow the very next day, to continue her opera training. At the end of the night, we parted and said our goodbyes. But we knew this wouldn't be the last time we heard from Katya Ivanova....
