(Please forgive any spellihgn erors, bekause I am tiping thias realy fadst.)
I want to talk for a minute here about dancing. I recently worked at a dance for my mom. She runs a school, and it was the students' prom night. As a result, I had to actually show up at the dance. Not only that, but my mom, being the caring person that she is, would make me go up to any girl that was not dancing and ask her to dance. Let me first tell you something about myself: I can not dance. Now I am not trying to be modest here, if anything I am understating the matter. I can NOT dance. The last time I tried, four people had to be taken to the hospital (Only two of those where on the dance floor, the other two passed out from laughing so hard.). Actually, I guess that is not entirely true, I can slow dance - Fox Trot, Waltz, Ballroom, etc., etc., etc. But that doesn't really count. Anyone can slow dance, all you have to do is take your partner - if you don't have a partner, I have found that a balloon or an empty dress works just fine. I always carry a spare dress to dances, just in case. No one ever says anything to me about it. Of course, they usually try really hard not to come within five feet of me too. Once you have her (or him, as the case may be) out on the dance floor the only real trick is to sway back and forth and move in little circles. This is easy and can be done by just about anybody, conscious or not. But fast dancing is another matter entirely. To fast dance you have to have rhythm, moves, balance, legs. I only have one of those. When I get out on the dance floor and start "getting down", people always rush up to me and try give me CPR. One time, when break dancing was still popular, I thought I was doing really good. Everyone had stopped dancing just to watch me. I really thought I was the coolest guy around, until the paramedics showed up and asked my teacher if I had ever gone into convulsions before. It was then that I decided that I couldn't dance. So you could imagine my fear at actually having to ask a girl to dance. It is usually assumed that if you ask a girl to dance, you have to go out onto the dance floor with them. I would have been perfectly happy sitting at a table.
ME: Excuse me, would you like to dance? GIRL: Well, I guess so. ME: The dance floor is right over there, on your left. You can't miss it.
That is why I was happy when I no longer had to attend school dances. And just when I thought I was safe, my mom asks me to go dance with a girl who is sitting down. Never able to say no to my mom (She paid me $20), I walked up to the girl and asked her if she would like to dance. She looked up at me and didn't seem to understand what I was saying for a minute. She just stared at me, the politely refused. Embarrassed, I had to think of a quick recovery sentence that would save my dignity and let her know that rejection was no big deal to me, that I was secure enough in my manhood not to be concerned if she said no. "Um." I said. Then I turned around and walked away. Okay, so I am not exactly Mr. Smooth when it comes to rejection. Rejection is a man's worst nightmare. My brothers and I preoccupied most of our lives with finding new and more exciting ways to kill ourselves, and we laughed in the face of death so many times that Death has decided that we aren't worth it. But when it came to those two dreaded letters from a girl, you would find us whimpering in a corner. The "N" word was a nightmare beyond nightmares. One of my brothers eventually got around this problem by getting married. Now, according to him, he "doesn't have to worry about being rejected by pretty women, he can just dance with his wife!" But some of us are not that lucky. After the initial rejection, I went and told my mom what happened, and she laughed, so I killed her. JUST KIDDING! I only maimed her a little bit. But my mom, ever undaunted, saw another girl in the room that wasn't dancing. She insisted that I go up and ask her to dance. Once again, not being able to say no to my dear old mom ($50 this time), I went and asked the girl to dance. This girl's name was Amanda. She was a very beautiful, athletic, funny, intelligent, married woman (Her husband was off-shore). But I wasn't going to let a little thing like solemn vows before God Almighty stop me, so I asked her to dance. Ready to give my post-rejection comeback, I started to walk away. But then I heard something completely amazing. "Yes." I couldn't believe it! A girl had actually agreed to dance with me! We walked to the dance floor and swayed back and forth for a little while. We talked while we danced, and I enjoyed her company immensely, until she fell asleep.
One thing that I have noticed at every dance that I have been to is that there a four groups of people at every one. The first group, which I was a member of, is the Men Without A Date group. This is the group of guys that show up at the dance together, then spend the whole time standing by the wall or by the snack table. They try to act cool, bob a little to the music, and talk about the girls at the dance. They even consider asking one of the many girls that are sitting down to dance, but they are afraid of the "N" word. So they spend the whole dance on the outskirts of the dance floor.
The next groups is the girls who come without dates. This group actually has two kinds: The Single Girl, and the Groups of Girls. The single girl is just a female version of the Man Without A Date. She sits alone in a back corner or against a wall just watching everyone dance. She wishes desperately that someone would come and ask her to dance, but her hopes are not too high. The Group of Girls is just the opposite. The do not have dates to the dance, and the don't care. They come in together, eat and drink together, dance together, go to the bathroom together, then leave together. They have more fun dancing with each other than they would have had if a guy was along.
Then there is the guy who really is confident in himself (and usually very popular), who never has to ask a girl to dance. The girls flock to him asking him to dance, and sometimes he says No! The Men Without a Date group watch him with a mixture of jealousy, awe, and hatred. They hate him for being popular, but they wish that they could be just like him. He gets our there on the dance floor and dances, sometimes with a girl, sometimes by himself. And the worst part about it is that *he really is a good dancer*. He comes to the dance, has fun dancing, then leaves with or without a girl.
And no dance would be complete without the people that always stand in the back of the room engaging in "dancing" of their own. You know the type, they show up and head straight for the darkest corner they can find. If there is none, then they find every opportunity to go outside. The chaperon at the dance is constantly having to go outside and fetch them. They stay in the back of the room, doing things you would expect to see in an adult flick, thinking that no one can see them or notices them. When in reality everyone not only knows what they are doing, but have actually placed bets on which girl will be pregnant before the dance is over. At the dance that I was working at, I had the job of stopping these people. I would see them in the back of the room, obviously thinking that they were being sneaky about it. I would fight through the crowd of people surrounding them and hover over them with my best Clint Eastwood look.
ME: I am sorry, but I am going to have to ask you two to stop. GUY: Stmph whght? ME: Stop what your doing. GUY: Dhgng? ME: Sir, please take that out of your mouth. And ma'am, please put your dress back on.
It was not a job I relished, but it had to be done. The dance was still fun, though. And I recommend that if any of you kids out there get a chance to go to a dance, take it. It is a worthwhile, fun, character building experience that can change your life forever. To this day, when I hear loud music, even if someone is driving by in their car, I instantly have the urge to "get wild and funky." Until the paramedics arrive, that is.
