In Gustavo's teibol, the air is thick with lust and the clink of glasses. The stage, a humble table, becomes a stage for a seductive dance. A teibolera, a professional dancer, takes center stage, her hips swaying to the rhythm. She's a prostitute, a zorra, but she's also a bailarina, an artist in her own right. As she dances, men watch, their eyes hungry, their wallets ready. This is her world, her stage, and she owns it, every bump, every grind.