I’d kill to be this good
I’ve always thought that the key to dancing was not necessarily to know what you’re doing, but to look like you believe you do. Or, better yet, to look like you simply don’t give a shit. There are a few people out there who actually know how to dance. They have a sense of rhythm, are basically graceful, and have spent enough time dancing that they can acquit themselves without looking like they’re having a seizure. Then there’s the rest of us. We look like we’re having seizures. And we’re in the majority – by, like, a lot. In America, there’s 300 million seizure dancers, and then maybe…23 people who know what they’re doing. (Right now, to yourself, you’re thinking that you’re one of the 23. But you’re not. Trust me. Your friends know you’re not, they just don’t want to tell you.) But as I said, all you need to do to seem like you’re one of the choice few is to appear like you don’t give a shit. Of course you give a shit, because we all give a shit – but to look like you really don’t care whether or not you’re dancing well – that’s as good as dancing well itself. I’m not talking about being in a music video or dancing with the Rockettes or something, I’m just talking about going to party and moving around in a convincing and impressive fashion. It’s a matter of confidence and careless joy, that’s all. But even knowing that, even though I possess the secrets of dance and the code to passing as a rhythmic, happening human being, I am still, when on a dance floor, the biggest doofus on the face of the earth. And the woman who forced me to prove that to her, well, she has never forgotten that day, I assure you.
Did someone say cliffhanger?!
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It (the dancing) could not have been that bad you basically pulled a Kurt Ketner from the movie She’s Out of My League. You sabotaged yourself right out I a good thing, that was going your way, by over thinking and over analyzing. As a chick, I’m pretty sure your gf hopeful didn’t care nearly as much about your dancing skills as she did your constant evasions and finally your giving up and committing to the fist pump lol. I’m guessing your lack of enthusiasm for her interest was the real problem, and not your lack of Dancing with The Stars contestant abilities.
Oh, I totally agree, Kay. As I said, a lack of confidence cost me a good shot. Wasn’t thee first time, won’t be the last…
This is why I imediately disregard dating profiles with any mention of dancing, unless it’s “I don’t like dancing.” Granted, this narrows the pool down to basically a puddle, but it’s better than putting everyone involved through this type of traumatic experience.
I guess the key is to find a girl that doesn’t give a shit about dancing. But to be safe, my strategy involves setting expectations really low right off the bat. Then you can only go up from there! (Ideally…)
You mean there are profiles where the women doesn’t mention that she loves to dance and spends every other night at either dance lessons, or dancing? Where? (My guess is the same place where women have profile pictures that DON’T contain dogs–and no, i love dogs, used to have one…didn’t let him post a picture on my profile though…he gets enough dates on his own.)
As another chick, I’m pretty sure you just showed her up with the Mrs. Krull.
oops! i mean MRS. KROLL!
Reading this just now, I actually winced and covered my eyes when I read “I did…the fist pump.”
Wow. You’re a marvelous writer. I’m married, not in the dating scene at all (thank heavens!), but I could read your posts all night long. I haven’t laughed out loud from reading something in a long time. Thank you for that.
Thanks lulu!
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