Why Clubs Suck and I Don't Dance

For years, I stuck to a stringent “no dancing” policy—and with good reason: I’m white. I realize that I’m white and I’ve moved on with my life. Believe me, the world is a much better place for it. I’ll tell you the story of how this edict came into existence:

When I was in college I dated a Puerto Rican girl. Actually, she was half Rican, a quarter Cuban, and a quarter Chinese…but that’s not really vital to the story. At any rate, she was real big into dancing. For months she hounded me and I kept telling her “listen, I don’t dance. Seriously…it’s more like a full-body dry heave, set to music.” None-the-less, she insisted.

So finally, heavily inebriated one night at a house-party, I went up and danced with her. At the end of the song, she looked at me and said, “OK, you need to go wait for me in the basement.” This was not a joke. No smile, no pulling me back when I left. Apparently, I’m that bad.

I don’t have a problem with it. As I said before, I’ve come to grips with my racial handicap. However, after spending a night out at the bars over the weekend, the time may finally have come for me to re-evaluate my position on dancing. This has nothing to do with me trying to broaden my horizons, or making myself a better person. This is pretty much because it appears that “dancing” has been eliminated from social interactions among people my age.

I observed people moving to music for the better part of an hour on Saturday night. From my research, it’s become clear that a man’s role is simply to put their arms up and provide an object against which ladies can grind and dry-hump. I would guess that you get extra points by swaying your arm to the music and occasionally putting a hand on their hips, but all that seemed pretty optional. Once again, any action that could be interpreted as esteeming the girl at any level beyond crack-whore is unacceptable. This includes: talking (other than grunts “yeah!” “Ugh!”), smiling, and eye-contact.

I’m really not sure what the fuck is going on with women these days. I mean, it seems like they’re still into equal rights, promotions based on ability, and being viewed as actually having and using brains. Then again, I see 12 year olds at the mall all slutted up, while girls my age wear pants with writing across the ass and dry hump random guys to horrible music at clubs. What the hell do I know, though?

I don’t understand clubs anyway. I’ve never been a guy who’s been able to pick up girls based solely on my looks. I’m realistic. I know that in order to have a shot with a girl I need to be charming, funny and smart. And I am, when I want to be. But clubs are designed to be totally incompatible with any kind of interaction. The music is not only as a rule horrible, but pumped at volumes to make attempts at conversation pointless. It occurs to me, that maybe my last blog about picking up girls online is pretty pointless when I can’t do it in person at the chosen gathering points of my generation.