The above title is a lie. Men often dance, but the majority of us dance very badly. Luckily, a lot of us know it and shy away from humiliating ourselves in public. Some men know they canít dance and donít care. Women love a man who is wiling to make a fool of himself for them, so long as he does this knowingly. But a handful of men who cannot dance think that they can.
The above facts were made clear to me as I sat next to the dance floor at a good friendís wedding party.
Here is some advice to all men: if you think youíre a great dancer, you probably arenít. Go to a party and ask someone to dance (preferably a girl) - chances are she will agree. Then check to see if she turns every few seconds to look at her friends. Is she does, or if she canít keep a straight face, give up and try to develop a sense of humour. Dancing is not for you.
There are also men who will dance at rather than with other people. Most men have actually exhibited this form of dancing at some point (usually after a few drinks). It is excusable to an extent, but if they have to call paramedics every time you get on the dance floor then it might be better to sit back down.
There are also men who, like me, refuse to dance. This is because we are very intelligent. We know something other men donít- namely that it is far more difficult to make a fool of oneself sitting down than up on the dance floor.
Sometimes we might stand, hands on hips, tapping our feet, exuding an air of coolness. We are saying: ďSee? I got rhythm! But if I get up there and shake my stuff, Iíll steal the show. Youíll have to wait until itís my wedding partyĒ.
Of course, our friends will be waiting till that time comes- probably with cameras.
Most men are horrible dancers, unlike women. Most women can dance- the rest can fake it. To us, women look ethereal when they dance, even if they are doing the Ďfunky chickení. We see girls dancing and we want to get close to them, but we just sit there looking uptight. If another man goes up to a woman we fancy in order to ask her to dance we hope he will slip and fall on her, or at least that he will step all over her toes. Itís not a difficult thing to do; most of us have done it at some point.
But, truth be told, eventually all men will take their cue to get up and dance. Often itís the song thatís playing. Usually itís the alcohol. This will make us dance even to songs with titles like ďItís raining menĒ. The next line of the chorus, for those who donít know it, is ďHallelujah!Ē To which I would like to add: God help us!
So we get up there on the dance floor, which is spinning faster than a breakdancer and people make way. We like to think itís because they want to stand back and admire our dance skills. Sometimes we will shout ďWahey! I am the lord of the dance!Ē and promptly fall over and pass out. But usually we will stay on our feet and try to shake our stuff. There are many dance styles we can demonstrate:
∑ The generic slow dance, where we pull our partner left and right and tread on her toes repeatedly.
∑ The generic slightly faster dance, where we try to make up for our lack of technique by bopping our heads up and down and shaking our fists.
∑ The generic really fast dance, also known as the Ďheadless chickení.
∑ All of the above. Together if possible.
So, in conclusion, having said all this, having repeatedly attempted to look good on the dance floor to the sounds of disco cover versions and having failed miserably every time, and having watched other men do the same, I must say one thing. And that is that even when men do dance, we really shouldnít.
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