I hate it when people don't dance. It makes me angry to see them standing in pairs, groups and other various constellations AROUND the dance floor instead of ON it.
-I have spent an hour picking out this dress.
-I have spent a lot of money getting this drunk.
-I can't hear what you're saying anyway!
-Just look at the DJ! LOOK AT HIM! He's going to cry himself to sleep tonight.
And then you're out there- Jumping around like a maniac, almost causing your friend's death in a dangerous tripping-on-shoelaces accident, hoping that this will inspire this room, this place,
You're filled with HOPE when a lean Tom Wellington look-a-like steps out of his comfort zone and hesitantly creeps out into the area-in-which-people-are-supposed-to-dance. He's waving to his friends, silently pleading them to follow him.
This is insecurity in human form.
This is a man on the verge of either crying or running home. He looks back at me for a second. I'm helping my friend spin around like a ballerina, while mimicking the moves of a feathered beast. I stare at him, judging him for what he's about to do.
He leaves the dance floor.
With his defeat I felt defeated as well. We left with our heads held high, and our hearts pounding with both adrenaline and frustration. To add to the general misery; we were broke and freezing.
Somehow, we were able to end the night with a few laughs and an agreement on the OKness of our experience.
But the point still stands.
I hate it when people don't dance.