Hello boys and girls,
Welcome to the first ever Dancer’s Corner – the first in an occasional column, where I address individuals who can sometimes make recreational dancing at bars and clubs a hazard to one’s personal safety.
To the tall young man whom I saw “dancing” at Clinton’s last night …
As someone who considers herself an intermediate-level Dancing Bar Patron (DBP) -who frequents establishments of dance with an elite squad of fellow high-level DBPs – I feel it’s my duty to take a couple moments and speak up.
First of all, you might be wondering why I put “dancing” in quotation marks. Well, I’m getting to that.
Remember that episode of Seinfeld, where Elaine cuts a rug during a company office party?
Here’s the thing:
I whole-heartedly endorse everyone dancing in situations where the music is irresistible and standing still just looks silly. Good, bad, White Man’s Overbite, I encourage and embrace it. However, what Ms. Benes does in the above example pales in comparison to what I saw from you last night.
You were moving to the music, yes. But not like a man. More like a bull in a china shop. A large, passive-aggressive bull.
If the dance floor was a busy highway, and you were a car, you would be swerving in and out of traffic. And I’d be calling the police.
Look. You’re a big guy, so I understand you require more space. But I kept having ducking and dodging because I didn’t know if you were going to tumble over. And if you were, I didn’t want to be the person who ended up the victim of a drive-by slam-dance gone horribly wrong.
I don’t know if you were sober or not. So here’s my advice to you:
If you happened to be bumping into folks ’cause you were drunk: May I suggest lowering the old intake? It could be helpful to everyone around you, including yourself. (Plus you won’t feel awful when you get to bed or when you get up the next morning.)
If you were anywhere between sober and two drinks: Um … just stop. No. I’m serious. Cut it out. STOP. Please. No more. You’re not only a danger to yourself, but to others in your immediate vicinity.
If you have any weddings, birthdays or family gatherings you plan on attending this year, maybe consider not dancing at all. There could be kids in attendance. Do you REALLY want to deal with running the risk of having to peel a flattened youngster or two off your shoe or your backside? If you have a heart – or that part of the brain that lights up when you see pictures of babies – then I beseech you, just a little bit, to think of the children.
Until you can dance responsibly, take a hiatus. Because if I see you again, I will have to call in the Dance Police to impose a moratorium … and believe me, you don’t want to deal with them.
And fellow DBPs, if you ever see this guy or any of his ilk at a club or bar near you, report him to the nearest DJ or trusted dancing authority.
Watch this space for the next installment of “Dancer’s Corner”, when I’ll address those deadliest of dancers: Those Who Fart.