Leslie's First Dance

I started off on an awkward foot but steadily became accustomed to flailing my body around to the rhythm. I looked around to my classmates who were dancing around without any reservations and took note. Most of the time was spent dancing in a certain group of schoolmates so I wasn’t worried about a guy coming up to me and doing what I like to call the “faux butt sex move.” I’m pretty sure a guy’s genitals came in touch with my butt once, but I turned around and looked him straight in the eye. He and his friend delved deeper into the crowd. Afterwards, my level of hearing went down to the equivalent of an 80 year old senior citizen. If you want to dance but not dance with sneezy guys then you have to be at the edge of the crowd but near the music so I was next to the speakers almost the entire time. My original plan was to watch my friends dance from the back of the room like a creepy stalker. I actually had fun. *gasp*

All in all it was a good experience. Would I like to experience it again? Errr, very sparingly. Halfway through I realized I lost my name tag. My very important name tag needed to enter the business competitions. Shit. I squeezed my way through the suffocating crowd several times. I found 5 nametags on the floor and threw them onto the stage since my name wasn’t on them. There was one point where I spotted a name tag in between two people grinding and thought to myself “damn… I need that nametag. Awkwardness is inevitable. How do I make this as least awkward as possible?” After a few rounds of thinking how to approach this, I stuck my leg in between and the guy started dancing on leg looking like “yeah, wanna join?”. I moved my leg further in without actually moving the homeland (aka my body), stomped on the nametag, dragged it back, picked it up, and walked away. Then I threw it onto the stage. The next day I had to buy another one for $2.

I went on a field trip with my business club, DECA a few weeks back. Last year I left the dance after 10 minutes because I was soooo uncomfortable and watched The Real Housewives of Orange County with my senior roomates who had boyfriends.

We stayed in a nice hotel next to a 3 story mall. Both places were consumed by thousands of teenagers from all across the state in both casual clothes and business attire (suits, blazers, pantyhose, heels).

Do something that makes you uncomfortable. You might enjoy it.