observations from the dance floor
Last night I went ‘out’ and was struck by a number of things. First up – why does going ‘out’ just refer to going to clubs and other alcohol serving places that are actually indoors – why doesn’t it refer to skydiving, flyfishing or just going anywhere actually outside? The second thing may be a result of my upbringing in country New South Wales in Tamworth. Here men are men, they wear big boots, drive utes, drink beer and perv on Shiela’s. (I think I’m allowed to exaggerate things a little for effect – writers prerogative) Now I’m used to the concept of girls and guys going out dancing and drinking as I’ve been in Newcastle for a while now, and I just guessed that guys do it because they want a chance at scoring with a lady, yet last night I noticed guys dancing with each other. They were really good – popping and locking, shuffling around and break dancing, and we weren’t even in a gay bar. These lads were just happy dancing and showing off their moves to one another and simply were not interested in the throng of ladies that surrounded them, as they were not doing a similar style of dancing. Good on them I say, dance for dance sake.
The other thing that I noticed was just how draining dancing is. My thighs are really aching this morning and my knees feel like they have been trampled on by a herd of brumbies. And I remember at the time getting really puffed, especially after the band played a cracking rendition of ‘tainted love’. I guess that’s how the regular revellers must work off all the alcohol that they consume.