"Where do you go clubbing?" asked my coworker, once upon a time.
"Hah" I laughed, "I don't go to clubs". Clubs are for silly people, I tell myself. And I feel quite self important at the end of this brief conversation.
I feel I need to make this important distinction. I do not like clubbing, but I do like to dance. A lot. In fact, I may love dancing.
...Maybe, if we spent more time together.
Dancing punches stress in the face. Dancing makes me laugh from sheer joy. Dancing meets that burger in the middle, wrestles it for awhile, and keeps it from clinging to my aging fat cells. Dancing takes my cares for a long, long walk.
Clubbing means beer breath, negative stereotypes, frosted tips and shiny shirts. To club is to walk through a land where physical boundaries bend in new and frightening ways. Clubbing shocks my innocence (and I am not even entirely innocent); like MTV in real life.
To find a place where you can dance and let the heavy, weighted beat move you how it moves you is rare; to find a place where you can dance and not have a sweaty crotch-wrangler* grab your waist and pull you close is even more exceptional. Which is why I have fallen in love with Girl Talk.
Girl Talk, once you've showered I would like to give you a big hug to say THANK YOU, for making dancing fun again.
the girl who likes to dance but does not like to club.
*my new term for the men who frequent clubs. Vulgar? Yes. Fitting? Absolutley.