Sex is great – Having it, talking about it, thinking about it, and by all means, doing activities that could potentially lead to it are wonderful ways to pass the time. Spring quarter is especially notorious for students falling all over each other in fits of lust. However, even a sex columnist has to draw the line somewhere, and this week it’s at dry humping on the dance floor.
Two years ago I introduced a couple of friends at a party and they started to dance. Wait, did I say dance? I meant they started grinding like a pair of crazed weasels in heat. Nonetheless, it looked like they were having fun so I was glad they were hitting it off. Then next thing I knew it was midnight, cops were swarming around the DJ, and I was being told by the girl that their brief encounter went from grooving to camping – the guy I had introduced her to pitched a tent on the dance floor.
I realize that when people get together in social situations, horny happens. Furthermore, I am not trying to rip on occasionally unpredictable male parts because everyone knows I would be out of this job if it weren’t for the penis as well as the vagina. But what is the reason for the excessive freak-nastiness whenever hip hop music is blaring on speakers?
Liking to dance is one thing. If you do it dirty, fabulous for you. What I am referring to is an excuse for vertical intercourse with clothes on. Once in awhile I will see a girl with a short skirt on, bent over in front of a guy with her butt cheeks flapping out there like the sails of a boat on the open sea. This isn’t a Dr Dre video, people; do you really think this kind of behavior will turn cutting a rug into rug munching? I think not.
In fact, apparently I was under the faulty impression that we outgrew that kind of behavior in junior high. Dancing at a club or party isn’t an invitation to rub your partner down like a stripper pole. If Mr. Winkie comes out on the dance floor, the bouncers will be on you before you can even say “indecent exposure.”
It’s worse for the uncoordinated couples who fail at pulling off some grinding-foreplay madness. You know the people – separately on the dance floor, they look like those wooden birds whose beaks dip into water glasses. Together they’re like wind up toys running into each other at different speeds. If they can’t even get into a good rhythm on the dance floor, movements during sex must be more erratic and jerky than an amusement park ride.
People seem to be so interested in trying to impress each other with slick moves that make them look suave or sexual. I say slapping on some leg warmers, spandex, and a sweat band and dancing to’80s pop beats the hell out of worrying about how hot you appear under a strobe light, hands down. But some people just don’t seem to get it. There are always those girls who still try to look sexy no matter what type of music is on. Here’s a tip to those ladies: it’s ridiculous to rub your breasts or slowly gyrate your hips while dancing to Men Without Hats’ classic, “Safety Dance.”
Likewise, there are always those guys who will come up, grab any set of hips, and grind on the ass attached despite the person’s obvious efforts to escape as quickly as possible. If she looks like she’s drowning, runs away or grabs the nearest individual in a death lock to dance with instead, that should be an indication that she doesn’t want to dance with you. It’s not rocket science.
Excessively nasty bump and grind is pointless because it rarely yields what appears to be the desired result. Participants look like mimes role playing that one person is grass, the other is the bottom of a shoe with dog poo on it, and that they must rub together until the shoe is clean. If you really can’t get enough of simulation sex on the dance floor then the question is this: would you rather be the shitty shoe or the grass receiving it?
Daily Nexus sex columnist Kate Rice can dance if she wants to, but she politely suggests you leave your friends behind.