I agree.
I've had many "That was a great milonga!" / "Really? I had a terrible time." exchanges with people at the exit after La cumparsita, and countless conversations where someone else totally disagreed with me on which of our city's many milongas have the most welcoming hosts, best DJs, nicest spaces (considering factors such as size, acoustics, floor, and air conditioning), friendliest dancers, most skilled dancers, and so on. Plus of course a person's universe doesn't stop at tango. Health, family, friends, romance, work, finances, and all the rest put tango in a context.
One of my tango friends judges milongas by how many dancers above her self-assigned level invite her to dance – her argument being that after all the time and money she has invested in tango, she's "entitled" to dance with them. Yet her idea of who is good is bizarre, a lot of people with stooped postures, uncollected legs, and overactive arms. She's in an on-again, off-again relationship with a man she doesn't like to dance with. Despite having considerably more disposable income than I do, she complains when she spends money on an event that doesn't meet her standards. So, she likes milongas where slightly weird dancers line up to dance with her, and where her sometimes-boyfriend isn't, and sees ones with competition for good dancers, and slightly higher entry fees, as bad. When tango visitors come to town, she shows them her idea of the best milongas, which are mostly the milongas I try to avoid . . .
. . . and she avoids my favorite, her line being, "Well, of course you like it there! It's full of women who want to dance with you, and the hosts, DJ, and half the dancers are your friends. When I go there, it feels snobby and cold, and there's nobody to dance with."
Definitely different universes right outside my door.