So after whining and bitching about how I'm not doing anything, I decided to go do something. Even just a little something.
So I called up a friend of mine and we went to a dance club. But not just any dance club. Oh, no. A goth dance club.
Imagine two white guys, both with glasses and bad hair cuts. One in jeans and a t-shirt (me). The other in khakis and a button-up flannel shirt.
Now imagine them at an industrial goth club.
says, "This does not compute."
It sure doesn't.
But, hey, it was our first time at a dance club of any sort. And the place was cool, we both liked it. So it was a good first experience.
But then, for whatever reason, we got the bright idea to dance.
It was not a good thing. Neither of us have any rhythm or any moves. My friend only lasted one song before he realized what a dork he was. Me, though, I went a full three.
Now, I have no idea how to dance, as I've stated. To make matters worse, I'm uncoordinated and clumsy (I accidentally hit at least two people). And I'm also not very quick, mentally. I never seem to realize when I'm doing something stupid. But I did my best.
And if you want the funniest mental image ever, picture a ton of goth kids dancing around me. There's a noticable distance between them and me. I'm jumping around to a Violent Femmes song, whipping my longish hair around.
And then I break out into the twist.
Yep. I'm dead serious. I did the twist.
"Hello. My name is Arthur Foddzerelli. And I am a dork."
Afterwards, as we were driving home, I was a little embarrassed about what a fool I'd made of myself. But I've since realised that this is who I am: a big, clueless dork. I've always done stupid things and I'll probably continue to do stupid things. It isn't my lot in life to be cool.
Luckily, I have a great sense of humor. I'm able to laugh at myself... y'know, with me, instead of at me.
So while all of my problems may not be solved, at least I can say I like being me for the duration of this one Joy Division song on the mix tape labeled "Life."
Thanks, goth kids 'round the world. Thanks for everything!
So I called up a friend of mine and we went to a dance club. But not just any dance club. Oh, no. A goth dance club.
Imagine two white guys, both with glasses and bad hair cuts. One in jeans and a t-shirt (me). The other in khakis and a button-up flannel shirt.
Now imagine them at an industrial goth club.
says, "This does not compute."
It sure doesn't.
But, hey, it was our first time at a dance club of any sort. And the place was cool, we both liked it. So it was a good first experience.
But then, for whatever reason, we got the bright idea to dance.
It was not a good thing. Neither of us have any rhythm or any moves. My friend only lasted one song before he realized what a dork he was. Me, though, I went a full three.
Now, I have no idea how to dance, as I've stated. To make matters worse, I'm uncoordinated and clumsy (I accidentally hit at least two people). And I'm also not very quick, mentally. I never seem to realize when I'm doing something stupid. But I did my best.
And if you want the funniest mental image ever, picture a ton of goth kids dancing around me. There's a noticable distance between them and me. I'm jumping around to a Violent Femmes song, whipping my longish hair around.
And then I break out into the twist.
Yep. I'm dead serious. I did the twist.
"Hello. My name is Arthur Foddzerelli. And I am a dork."
Afterwards, as we were driving home, I was a little embarrassed about what a fool I'd made of myself. But I've since realised that this is who I am: a big, clueless dork. I've always done stupid things and I'll probably continue to do stupid things. It isn't my lot in life to be cool.
Luckily, I have a great sense of humor. I'm able to laugh at myself... y'know, with me, instead of at me.
So while all of my problems may not be solved, at least I can say I like being me for the duration of this one Joy Division song on the mix tape labeled "Life."
Thanks, goth kids 'round the world. Thanks for everything!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
JEEBUS HELPS ME KILL!!!!
Maybe you should try a punk-ish club . You could just mosh around all night . That requires NO coordination and running into things is encouraged . The downside...it's like getting your ass kicked for NO reason . The first time I went into a mosh pit I came out with a bloody lip and some sore ribs . Makes me wonder WHY I had so much fun getting pummeled?????
Congrats on a night well spent though . Fun can be found pretty much anywhere if you look hard enough .