I’m a dancer. What can I say, I like to dance. I might not be very good at it, shit, I might be the whitest, dorkiest dancer of all time. But when I dance, dammit, it’s contagious.
People see me dancing and start getting ants in their pants. It might be my strong hip movement or my awkward hand gestures but they can’t help themselves but get up and shake their shit.
This weekend, I was just shaking it with Sarah (my all time fav dance partner) at a bar with no dance floor. It started with a little shaking, nothing more than a hip movement or a slide. But the hips don’t lie, and soon, we were BUSTING A MOVE.
People saw us and thought, “Man I wish I was dancing too.” (Or maybe I just thought so…)
Mike made fun of us, well really me, because of my dancing prowess. But soon, he would eat his words.
Others joined in and soon, it was Dance Party USA. I was breaking out dance moves like ‘waxing the globe’, ‘the sprinkler’, and my newest move, “Push the Floor down.” Push the floor down is sort of like “Raise the roof” but a hundred times cooler. Man, it was onnnnnnnn.
Sarah countered with a point perfect ROBOT and soon, the fire sprinklers came on because we set the room on FIRE.
We left shortly after we got the party dancing. That’s the key to being a true dancer; you pick your spots and end on a high note.
The next time you are at a party that’s lame, just give me and Sarah a call, we’ll turn up the heat.
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