Witness The Whiteness

So last week was a little rough. By the time Friday rolled around, there was really only one thing I wanted to do: GO 80'S DANCING.

I know, I know, I'm such a cliche white person. I'm pretty sure 80's dancing is on the official list of stuff white people like, if not at the very top. But there's a great place downtown that has a little something called "80's Video Dance Attack" every Friday night. Once a week, young hipsters with side-ponytails, middle-aged Billy Idol fans, and old people in 80's prom dresses line up around the block for this 80's night.

I couldn't allow myself to have another night of eating ice cream and surfing the musician want-ads on Craigslist, so I called up my friend Mariah and met up with her downtown. She had recently been talking about how she never goes out, so I felt that it was my duty as a friend to expose her to the glory of 80's dancing.

The club was packed and we ended up waiting in line on the sidewalk for awhile. We finally made it past the bouncer around 11 and found ourselves in a large room full of drunken white people attempting to dance to "Come On Eileen."

Mariah, who was new to this sort of thing, looked fairly uncomfortable. "You go onto the dance floor, I think I'm just going to watch people for a bit," she says. I wasn't about to let her get away with that. After all, I truly believe that everyone in the universe has a secret desire to dance to bad pop music from the 1980's. So I pulled her onto the dance floor and soon we were breakin it down like a chemical compound.

The DJ played MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This" (which was technically released in 1990 but it still worked at 80's night) and I had to succumb to my obnoxious white person nature by showing my friend that I know almost every word of the rap. I noticed a guy eyeing me from the side of the room but I didn't think much of it. Then "Footloose" came on and the guy pushed his way through the crowd and came over to us.

This man had to be at least 35. He had a beer in his hand and the world's cheesiest grin on his face. "Ladies, do you mind if I dance with you?" he asked in a British accent.

I shrugged and said, "Sure, why not." The three of us proceeded to cut footloose. Our British friend knew every word and danced way too well to be heterosexual. The next song came on and he recognized it in about three beats. "Woo! I love this song!" he exclaimed. He knew all of the words to that song too. I couldn't look at Mariah for fear that we would both start laughing.

He danced with us for the duration of a few songs (always screaming at the beginning of each one and declaring his love it, of course). Then he announced that he needed to take a break, blew us a kiss, and went back to the side of the dance floor. He stood very close to a man. Mariah and I had a laugh and kept dancing. I figured that would be the last of our British friend.

But when Mariah left for a minute to get a drink of water, he was back! He had a new beer in his hand and was incredibly excited about the song the DJ was playing. I felt like it took Mariah forever to get a drink of water. She returned to find me and my British friend dancing to this song:

	Human League - Don't You Want Me .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Naturally, he knew all of the words and was quite enthusiastic about singing them to me. Which was all fine and good until he attempted to grind against my leg. Apparently he wasn't as gay as we thought he was.

"It's all in good fun!" he stammered when he saw the disgusted look on my face. He then tried to grind against Mariah and got a similar negative response.

"Okay, I get it, you ladies have bubbles!" he said. We continued to dance, but he kept getting closer and closer to me and it was becoming slightly awkward. I finally ducked out to go use the bathroom, dragging Mariah with me. It was getting late, but we decided to return to the dance floor for a few more songs before heading home.

"But let's go to the other side of the dance floor," I say to Mariah. "Let's get away from that British Guy."

We make our way towards the other side of the dance floor and quickly turn around because Awkward British Guy is sitting at the bar right in front of us. We scuttle back to where we were earlier and are just in time for "Thriller." We're having a blast watching people try to be Michael Jackson when suddenly we have a visitor.

"Fancy running into you ladies again!" says Awkward British Guy. I swear, he magically teleported over to us or something.

The DJ spins an awful old school rap song and our British friend proceeds to demonstrate exactly how white he is. He busts out all of these "gangsta" moves that should never be done in public and raps along with this fine piece of music:

	Digital Underground - Humpty Dance .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

I think it was about that point that Mariah and I decided it was time to go. We told Awkward British Guy that we were leaving and he thanked us for dancing with him. "I had a lovely time ladies, maybe I'll run into you guys another night and we can dance again." He then offered to give me a very enthusiastic fist pump. It was all I could do not to laugh.

80's dancing is the best. Really. If any of you ever find yourself in Portland on a Friday night with nothing to do, call me up and I'll drag you over to 80's Video Dance Attack.

Hahahaha. I'm so white...