Why I don’t always feel like dancing

I wish that the whole world would know Swedish so that everyone could read this. Niklas Hellgren sums up everything I hate about going out.

I’ve gone out quite a lot here in Melbourne. Even though I generally prefer a nice bar where the volume level allows me to talk to my fantastic friends, I sometimes like to go dancing. See, when I feel like it I become the sickest house dancer that ever lived. I become Beyoncé, Les Twins and Tight Eyez all rolled up into one. And at that moment I don’t care that most people probably don’t agree with me. I doesn’t matter, it’s just fun (and for the record, alcohol has nothing to do with it).

But then it happens. Some guy starts moving towards me. No hi, no nothing. He just pushes his body against mine and expects me to start rubbing myself against him. Apparently, the dance floor is a free zone for feeling up people.

This is the reason I have a hard time when heterosexual men I don’t know want to dance with me. I know that I sound like a bitch – it’s not like I’m not glad people want to dance with me. It’s just that the “dancing” doesn’t always mean dancing. All too often the guys don’t even dance, they just stand with their arms open waiting for your ass to start moving against them (this is usually where my Tight Eyez moves kick in).

I mean, come on.  Dancing is dancing. Foreplay is foreplay.

Update: I realize that nobody knows such an obscure language like Swedish. I just had to translate a bit, ’cause Hellgren says it so bloody well (it’s my translation that’s crappy, I know):

7. Because the whole point of a straight club is girl meets boy and boy meets girl, or grandpa meets grandma for that matter. That never stops. It’s probably not fair to write “whole point”, because there probably are happy guy groups who are more realistic and realize from the start that the night will end with jerking off to Cum-sucking sluts. But they are each of course hoping for another type of ending. […] I suppose you’ve heard of “meeting friends” on several occasions. You only do that in gay bars. In straight bars you forget your friends as soon as you see even a shadow of the possibility that the night could end in an away game.

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