I'm Sorry, I Don't Dance.

Yeah, no I’ll head out onto the floor next song. The song already started and I’d look stupid walking out there like a clown in the middle of it.

I’ve got a beer in my hand so right after I finish I’ll head out to the dance floor. Just want to get some alcohol in me to relax, get all loosely goosey.

There really aren’t any cute girls here that I’m attracted to. I think I’ll just finish this beer in the corner. Every now and then I’ll look up to scan the room for new prospects.

Why is that hot girl dancing with that guy with his shirt unbuttoned? He’s not even wearing an undershirt. It’s just his bare body openly displayed. Who does that? Can someone answer me? Why is she dancing with him? The king of all douches.

I’m not really feeling this beat.

I need to go to the bathroom. I had like, four beers, they go right through me. I’ll go into the stall, even though I’m taking a pee. I’m going to sit down for a while too, my legs are pretty tired from standing.

What am I doing in this stall? What made me want to come to this club? I know. It was that stupid bitch Sarah. She said it would be fun. She left for the dance floor right when we got here. Bitch.

Alright man. Step it up. You’re at a hopping night club. This is the prime of your life. You’re in your prime baby. Just get out on the dance floor. Bob your head a little. Let the music flow through your body.

This is a pretty good song. If I had to dance this would be the song I’d dance to. Alright, I think I’m going to do it.

I’m going to get a beer instead.

I should tie my shoe. Double knot. At this point I’m just burning time until this place closes at 3:00.

It’s 10:30.

Do I smell marijuana? That’s illegal. That is an illegal substance. Maybe I should call the police. They’d probably give me a medal. My parents would be proud.
What am I thinking? What’s wrong with me? I should punch myself in the face for even contemplating calling the police. I’m such a dork.

These guys on the dance floor are bar-none the biggest douche bags in the world. What would possess a man to start moving like that. Look at that kid. He’s sweating so hard and singing along. He looks so stupid, running his fingers through his hair, putting his hands up. WHAT ARE YOU DOING KID?!?

What am I doing? This kid’s dancing with three hot chicks. I’m the loser, not him.

I’m going to take another round of the floor, see if there’s any fresh meat.

Nope.

I’m not the type of guy who gets a girl by dancing. Let me have a conversation. Let me make an idiot of myself the old-fashioned way, through talking, not making stupid awkward dance moves that make me look like I have a terrible new diseased combination of cerebral palsy and downs syndrome. This is so stupid.

Why can’t a girl come up to me? Why do guys always have to go up to girls? This is what’s wrong. It’s not me. It’s the system. It’s American society and its double standards. It’s definitely not me.

Alright I’m on the dance floor. Man, this is so weird. Stop looking at me dude. I feel uncomfortable. Damnit just suck it up. Sway your hips, bob your head. There ya go. It’s not that hard.

What do I do now? I’m dancing with this girl…and six other dudes. Get away other dudes. This is so gay. I should start a fight on the dance floor. That would show them. That’d show them all!

I’m getting off the floor. This is too awkward. Let’s strike up a conversation with that weird guy in the corner drinking a beer alone. I bet he’s interesting.

- “This is gay” I say.
- “Yeah, this sucks”