It's been a while since I've gone out. You know, Gone Out. My weekends as of late have been spent become BFFL's (Best Friends For Life) with my couch, avoiding human contact, and listening to the silky seductive whispers of my sweatpants promising me that it's totally fine if I eat one more plate of potatoes because if I just eat them now then they'll be out of the house permanently and then I can REALLY start my healthy diet.
Cough, cough. But anyway.
There's something about the Going Out culture that is forever exciting and exotic, even though past experiences have taught me that many times, the reality will never quite live up to the expectation. In my mind, it's all bathed in a golden romanticized hue: getting all dressed up, going to a sleek bar with even sleeker people, ordering a drink and sipping it coyly, and generally building the moments that interrupt the food pictures on an Instagram account.
Sign me up, I'm in.
There are several different ingredients that make up the Going Out Night that so many alcohol commercials show us. Ingredient one: the I'm-wearing-small-skyscrapers-by-strapping-on-these-going-out-heels. Ingredient two: The witty bar-side banter with the (let's face it) ridiculously expensive drinks. Ingredient Three: Dancing.
I don't know what it is about paying a cover fee to go into a bar with loud, thumping, sending-vibrations-through-my-spinal-cord Top-40 hits overlaced with techno beats while fighting for breathing space on a postage-stamped size floor that makes me feel alive sometimes, but hey, every so often you just need to pretend like you're a music video vixen to feel cool. (Right guys? Right?)
However, I won't be so vain as to believe that my dance floor battle cry is anything attractive to watch. In fact, quite the opposite. Therefore, I have compiled a list of honest truths regarding what happens when I hit the dance floor.
Things I Think While I'm Dancing:
1) DAMN, I'm hot!
2) Look at me shake that. And this. AND ALL OF THAT.
3) Why haven't I been hired to be in a music video yet? Look at me go! No one has ever been this awesome before.
4) Can you believe I haven't had formal training?
5) Oh yes. This is my song. THIS. IS. MY. SONG.
6) I could go on dancing forever.
7) I FEEL SO ALIVE.
8) I need a higher surface. I need to be higher. (Something about girls and dancing requires a high, stage-like surface. Kind of like salmon returning upstream to spawn. It's just something in the genetics).
Things Others Think While Watching Me Dance:
1) Oh my god, someone bring that girl a glass of water. She is gasping for air. Is she a fish on dry land? What is happening?
2) I think that girl is currently being electrocuted. It's not normal
for someone to move like that. And I don't mean that in a good way. What is wrong with
her. Maybe she's on fire. STOP DROP AND ROLL.
3) Someone call animal control. This needs to be stopped.
4) WHY HASN'T SOMEONE GIVEN THIS GIRL FORMAL TRAINING.
5) Stop the music. Make this stop. MAKE THE MADNESS STOP.
6) MY EYES. I wish she would stop. Look at all that weird thrusting and
gyrating and awkward hand movements. This is a travesty against the
institution of dance.
7) I'm going to shoot her with a tranquilizer in 10....9....8....7.....
8) I will body-check her if she tries to get onto that mini-stage over there.
So, who wants to go out tonight? ;)