Confused By The Cabeceo?

One of the things I love most about tango is that the rules are so clear for dancers to follow:

1. The man leads, the woman follows (unless, of course, the lead is shared as the follow does certain embellishments)

2. All instructors teach the same core of tango technique (although it is true that most teachers have their own variations of tango technique)

3. The cabeceo makes the invitation so easy & clear (actually, this is only true in Buenos Aires where the the cabeceo is the rule; if you're in America one has to use a mix of invitation methods such as the cabeceo, verbal requests, extending the hand, hand signals, semaphore and smoke signals)

Okay, so maybe things aren't quite as crystal clear in tango as they first sound in blogs.

So, like I was saying, one of the things I love most about tango is that the rules are so appropriately flexibility...

Driving Through The Fog To The Verdi Club

I'm driving alone through the dark hills of Marin at night. As I fly out of the tunnel there's so much fog I can't even see the city-I barely make out the top of the reddish orange Golden Gate Bridge as it floats above the Bay. As I cross the bridge, the two towers are tangoing together, their steel arms intertwined in a permanent embrace. I look to my right, but the mist is so thick the Pacific ocean is invisible below. This high up in the clouds the only thing I hear are the lonely notes of Poema*. Feeling my way through the fog towards La Sonrisa*, her lighthouse beckons me as I drift through the cypresses of the Presidio forest. She guides me into safe harbor as I finally see the Verdi Club in the distance and her yellow neon winged harp perched out front above her nest. As soon as she sees me she takes flight in my direction, taking me under her wing and guiding me inside with a knowing smile...I slowly scan the room and through the haze of tangueras* I see her across the floor--she of the great connection. She's talking with a girlfriend, laughing...I forgot how much her smile lights up a milonga*. After a few moments we make eye contact, I cabeceo* and she accepts with a hard-to-read grin. I walk to her, we slowly embrace, I step to my left and she glides with me as we dive into the fog together...