May I have this dance? NO!

Dance the night away. NO! I can’t dance, in the words of the great Charlie Brooker, “I look like a frightened horse on a frozen lake.”  

The world is full of people who literally cannot enjoy themselves at a party, or wedding, or in a club, unless YOU dance more or less at the same time, and in the same vicinity that they do their dancing in. Why do some people refuse to accept the fact that certain other people, me, do not want to dance. They’ll say things like, “Come on, you know you want to have a dance”. My response to this is always, “No. I really don’t want to dance. I know my own feelings better than you do…..*murmur*…shithead!”

A particularly horrific experience happened to me a few years ago. I was in a nightclub in Adelaide, Australia. I went there for no good reason. I hadn't been out in a long time, and I stupidly thought that I could have the ladies flocking around me, and that I could pick and choose which ones I wanted to, uuhhm, “play hospitals” with.

I did not succeed with the ladies that night. Not one single thing that happened that night could be described as successful. First of all, a quite drunk girl took a shine to me, and insisted that I dance with her. I knew full well that if I danced provocatively and sensually with this girl, I would have given myself a very good chance of “playing hospitals” with her later that night. But, through sheer willpower and self-assurance, I refused to dance with her.

I could very strongly sense that my refusal to dance with an attractive girl was something that had never been done in this particular establishment. A few moments passed, and a small semi-circle had formed around this girl and me. The guys around us were saying, “Go on you pussy, grind on her you c@#t.” The girls around us however, seemed a lot more understanding, and even though a few of them were encouraging me to get up and dance, most of them stood there just watching on with looks of despair and pity – which I preferred!

I did not end up dancing with this girl, I had to leave the nightclub and I ended up walking home. I did a lot of thinking on the way home, sorry, I mean, I did a lot of drinking. It helped with the embarrassment quite well.

To this day I have never danced with a woman. I have however been relatively quite successful with the opposite sex. So, this means that dancing, no matter how appealing women find it, is NOT necessary to attract interest.

One of Bill Hicks’ funniest jokes, in my opinion, is the following, “You know, women say they love a man who can dance. But if a man is out on the dance floor grooving to the music and letting all his emotions out, what does it matter, ladies? He’s gay! You've got no chance.”          

Nightclubs. Don't Go. Just Don't. Stay at Home, Read a Book or Something.

We've all been there, done that.

I recently spoke with a man who had a very interesting and terrifying story. His story involves a nightclub, and what happened to him in and around the nightclub.

I've tried my best to retell his story as accurately as possible.

Here it is.......

"Nightclubs, right...........

A bunch of semi-drunk, blonde bombshells, all decked to the nines, assaulted me and the passenger in my car. It was a Friday night, and we were driving through the city of Adelaide to get home. The four or five ladies flagged us down, got us to stop our car and then dragged us out onto the streets. They didn't beat us or anything like that. But they did verbally berate us to the point of tears. The reason behind this attack - was simply that these young lasses desperately wanted an iPhone charger. They were all running low on battery power on their iPhones. They were late for their VIP entry into "Le Sheet" nightclub. Without having working iPhones on them meant that they would be
unable to take pictures of themselves and chat to friends on Facebook.

I didn't have a lot of sympathy for these girls, but I was intrigued to the point of Indiana Jones-style adventure. I dropped my passenger off at my house, and then ventured off to investigate this situation. I wanted to know what exactly happens in these so-called "Party places". What would drive a group of luscious girls to attack a harmless couple of citizens? I investigated this phenomenon and very surprising results hit me....in the face, then I was  asked to leave. Anyway, here goes.........

Waiting in line to get into this nightclub was the very first surprise. A man was clearly very drunk, and he was standing in front of me. He vomited on his shoes, then fell over. I brushed him aside and stepped forward one place. As I approached the entrance, I was suddenly seized by a big, bald man. He asked to see my ID. I showed him my ID, and he said I looked much older than my age......I was hurt, to say the least!

As I entered the establishment in question, an overwhelming noise blew my ears off, and the stench of sweat and other bodily fluids bombarded my nostrils. A glowing tube of possibly cancer-causing chemicals was offered to me by a ravishing young lady. I declined the offer, because I didn't want to stand out, because I was on a mission from conservative/straight-edge God!

When I entered the main stage area of "Le Sheet", a man with a camera took my photograph, I did not agree to this, but I could not do anything about it. I wasn't even wearing my best pair of spectacles! Feeling very despondent and glum, I shuffled over to the bar and ordered a double whiskey. The price of this tiny amount of liquid actually made me scream involuntarily. People were giving me strangle looks, and I was giving them strange looks. Nobody of the opposite sex approached me for sex, or just a bit of a chat. The stress of this situation made me want to start smoking again. So I walked out into the outdoor smoking area. I asked a young lady for a cigarette, and she complied with my request. She even lit it for me. Classy lady.

As I was puffing away, a small fight started in front of me. It then got a lot worse. A large man with a long beard pulled out a Glock 17 pistol(with a flashlight attachment). He fired it into the air three times and everybody ran away, screaming. I, however, did not run away. I attempted to defuse the situation, by fainting. By the time I came to, I was picked up by a bouncer. I was accused of being too drunk for the establishment's standards. Subsequently I left, angry and afraid.

I went home and cried for a few moments, so distraught by my nightclub experience. I implore you all to not step foot inside any nightclub, unless you have diarrhea  I suppose you could run in to do your business, but then GET OUT OF THERE!"

This kind of thing must happen all the time! Be careful peeps.