So for the past couple of weeks, people have come up to me and have spoken to me about my blog. First off, I’m honored that anyone actually reads this–I had 80 hits on my last post… which is shocking since I don’t know 80 people. In fact, I had a kid come up to me in the bar, introduce himself and say he is a huge fan of my blog (I told him he was a wierdo stalker and told him him to leave me alone. I then ran away sobbing for some reason). Second, when people talk to me about the blog, it just makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know why. It just does. Third, these people tell me that their favorite post is my old Valentine’s Day post, which kind of sucks because that isn’t me now. In addition, most of these people who say this probably wouldn’t like Mike from two years ago. Anyway, because a lot of people like the ranting of that post, I figure I might as well include more of my rants into new posts and less insight. It won’t be forced (see Lewis Black), but I will definitely rant on some things that annoy me.
So let’s start with something that has grinded my gears for years now: dancing. I really don’t like dancing. This started years ago. Back in my youth, when this idea of sober dancing was prevalent, Mike was a short, round middle schooler. We had dances a couple times a year and were the social event to be at. I had avoided these dances for my first two years of middle school. I thought, “Why should I subject myself to dancing? I can’t dance. I can’t even imagine myself dancing.” But then my mother did the unspeakable: she signed up to be a chaperonat the dance. In other words, I wouldbe forced to go. And in other words, all my friends would be forced to go.
Well, that dance sucked. A lot. It just involved me and my friends doing the same thing we normally did on a Friday night, minus a Playstation. We looked on as slutty twelve and thirteen-year-0ldgirls danced with the more confident guys who somehow knew how to dance. And then you have the kids who could break dance–those kids were clearly sent down by the Lord himself because everyone gave those little assholes all the attention.
For the next four years in high school, I pretty much avoided these dances, minus the one to two times a year when we would have our big class dances. I figured if I wanted to stand against a wall with my friends and not talk to girls, I could do this at home without Usher blasting on huge speakers. The lone exception to this was senior prom, which I look back on in embarrassment–how did I dance? I probably looked like a moron. Why was a girl dancing with me? Is she aware I am not real with the flow? But, slow dances became my bread and butter, simply because it doesn’t involve a lot of body movement (also, girls love the whole making eye contact thing while dancing–something you can’t do while getting your freak on while dancing to the latest Flo Rida jam).
Moving on to college, I discovered this concept of bars that had loud dancing music (I thought clubs were supposed to be the ones blasting dancing music, whereas at bars, you sit around and drink). Even with the influence of liquor, I despise dancing. Here’s how I see it: dancing is a way to get girls. No doubt. Always has been. Even I have been guilty of this in the past. But the bottom line is: why do we have to sink to this level? What happened to the lost art of dates? Why is it that the only way to talk to girls in which you are interested in a social situation is at a loud bar while being intoxicated? Way too many times I have seen a situation where you get interested in a girl (or for the ladies, a guy) and you go to the bar to seal the deal. What is wrong with asking a girl to a movie? Or out to dinner? I just don’t understand.
And what’s worse about this situation is that every guy, no matter what, drinks heavily before going out because we know we will inevitably have to dance. Then when we show up to these god-forsaken bar/club mutants, we are shown up by people who are much better dancers than us (those bastard break dancers from eight years ago strike again!). So, we have one of two options: one, get more intoxicated, which doesn’t end well for anyone, or two, dance with friends who are girls because we have no better option. And this second option is almost as bad as not dancing at all. It’s like tying in sports. Or dancing with your sister. It is just a terrible situation.
To conclude, when I think of dancing, I first think of my years as a short, unconfident overweight little shit. I also think of my years as a taller, more confident piece of shit. And despite the fact that a lot of change has occurred over the years, some things never change. Dancing sucks. Unfortunately, throughout my years, it has degenerated so far, that the idea of going on sober dates is more extinct than Charles Barkley’s sober living. How sad is that?
Here’s my suggestion: girls, make it clear you want to go on dates. We know you want to. Us men are just too cowardly to ask unless given a very clear (explicit would be nice) sign. Until this happens, we are going to continue to get very intoxicated, and attempt (and fail) to dance.