Dance Like Nobody Is Watching
By now I’m guessing a lot of you have already seen me put a clinic on the dance floor set white people back about a decade from over the weekend. So what I’d figure I’d do now is address a few things about it here myself since it’s Monday and I’m sure that my misery will make your day seem at least a little better in comparison. On Saturday, JJ and the rest of the Yuppie Junk crew were gracious enough to come down to Philly and bless us with a 4-hour open bar. So I did what any other red blooded American would do with an open bar and attempted to drink as much as I could handle to get to to the point where it almost seemed like the bar was paying me to drink. Once the DJ took the stage, the music took control of my body and it was all history from there.
This may come as a surprise to some of you but no, I’ve never taken dance classes before in my life. Between blogging about hockey, college lacrosse and that attempted running man performance, I think I have this whole “being a white guy” thing down pretty solid. Come to think of it, the only way I could get any whiter is if I were chasing my drink with a tub of mayo. I’ll tell you something though. This really put some things into perspective for me. Because all my life I’ve dreamed about being a professional athlete. But think about how much pressure you have on you as a pro athlete to also be a great dancer. You’ve got Scam Newton putting on a show after every touchdown and Russ Westbrook doing his thing before every tip-off. It’s a tough industry to crack. But as a white guy who blogs for a living? Well there’s virtually zero pressure at all on you to be a good dancer. And that’s really more of the life that I’m suited for. Since sobering up a bit, I’ve watched the tape back a couple times. And I’m not saying I’m proud of my performance but I don’t think it was as bad as it could possibly be. Like would the judges pass me through on “So You Think You Can Dance?”. Of course not. But I might be able to swindle a few wedding dates out of this (that’s a hint to the 3 or 4 ladies who may have accidentally clicked on this blog).
So here’s the moral of the story for all you kids at home. If you’ve got enough liquid courage in your body and you start to feel the music take over your body, don’t hold back. At least not if you’re a white guy. Because as a white guy, you automatically have a built in excuse for being a bad dancer. So get out there and make the dance floor your bitch. Dance like nobody is watching. Because chances are you won’t be out with your boss who tweets 3 separate Vines of it out to 45.9K people and nobody will actually be watching. I got the initial embarrassment out of the way for all future white boys to make a fool of themselves on the dance floor. Now we’re pretty much playing with house money at this point.
Sidenote: I see a lot of people asking if these dance moves got me laid. Let’s just say there’s a fine line whilst dancing like a fool between seeming funny to girls (which they can work with) and seeming like a complete lunatic (which they will try to avoid at all costs). I may have accidentally crossed that line.
Dad?