Let's get something out of the way before it becomes a burden and drags the rest of life down with it: I cannot dance. I've never been able to dance, I've never accidentally done a bit of dancing and I have absolutely no desire to learn how to dance in the future. When music comes on that I like the best reaction you'll get out of me is 'Hey, some music just came on that I like,' before I go back to doing exactly what I was doing before, which was probably Twitter. I don't understand the protocol of dancing, I don't get why it happens or when it should happen or what to do when other people insist I become a part of it happening. Sometimes I'll be stood up when music is on and I find my body is kind of moving in a twitchy, painful manner. I have been informed that this is not dancing. I am at a loss.
When people ask me to go for a dance I become instantly confused and panicked. For a start, who are they and how did they get into my personal space? Secondly, they can probably actually do a dance and this will only put me to shame. I don't want to be shamed; I'm out to have fun you know? Being shamed is not fun. In the past I had friends that could dance but they could also get drunk, until eventually they were all at the same stage of dancing I could achieve whilst sober. The playing field became even, before ultimately they fell to the floor and I WON. I WON THE DANCING.
But when the people around me are fully conscious I only ever lose. I lose as my long legs stay rooted firmly to the ground, frightened of moving in case they move wrong. I lose as my equally long arms flap about by my side like a seal, only it's cute when a seal does it and apparently socially unacceptable when it's me. I wish I was a seal. Alright, not all of the time, because seals get eaten by whales. They don't look so cute then. I only wish I was a seal for like, a minute of every day. Ten minutes at best. I lose as my head forgets it's a head and instead believes it's a rock, glued firmly to my giraffe-like neck. I lose as hundreds of potential new friends form a gradually growing circle of space around me.
I lose at dancing.
Right now thousands of people will be out in whatever city or town you're in completely unaware that I am struggling so badly at something they find so easy. I envy and hate them in equal measure. Why won't they let me be them for just one night?
They can sit here, they can write this. It's a fair swap.
