It’s a Friday night. Classes went well because you didn’t drool on your desk when you fell asleep during the lecture in Philosophy class, and the girl who sits behind you agreed to go to a house party with you tonight.
Problem is, it’s a dance party, and you don’t know how to dance. Take a deep breath and don’t think too much. Remember to pregame with your buddies and don’t be a pansy this time, actually finish all the beer that you will buy because you’re going to need to relax and not care so much about what you think, or about what her friends think when they come along with you guys.
Be confident. Forget about all those other times when you’ve been rejected, and had a mixed drink thrown in your face, or when you couldn’t pull off a number close. Those past experience are trite, and what you need to do is visualize success.
Go for it man. So you pick her up at GRC, and you and your friends and her friends all go to a frat house on West Cary Street, and you all get inside, and you see the dance floor.
There aren’t any lights on, tall subwoofers thunder with a droning Hip Hop song from a oversaturated radio playlist with Katy Perry bellowing out her autotune vocals, and suddenly the girl you came with is snatched from your arm by one of the Pledges who probably did it to convince to the brothers that he has balls underneath his plaid lacrosse shorts.
So now what? Well, you can go through the back door and bum a jack off of that tall, lanky guy with dred locks past his knees and vent out all your frustrations that have accumulated over the past few days, or…you can find another girl. Choose the latter.
Please, build back up your self-worth. You live in Richmond, home to thousands upon thousands of promiscuous human beings who want to hook up with somebody who looks decent enough to show their face in broad daylight. So what you got to do is approach a girl who looks like she’s having a good time.
Could be the girl gulping down the tap from a kegstand; could be the girl who is texting on her smartphone in the den; could be the girl who is sitting on the couch alone looking at the free-spirited ladies grinding on the blacked out guys who are leaning back on the drywall with their eyes rolled back. Doesn’t make a difference whom you select. Just do something productive.
But before you make your move on anyone of these girls, remember that there are three ways to approach a lady on the dance floor. First: The horny, douchebag approach. Every guy at one point in the course of their partying existence has been “that guy” who is the belligerent drunk that staggers towards a girl, natty spilling from their red cup, shoelaces untied, comes behind a girl, grabs her by the waist, and starts thrusting his hips against her ass.
Don’t be that dude. Even if you think that that particular girl seems somehow into you from the way you’re sloppily gyrating your wobblely legs around her, she’s pretty much not going to respect you because you aren’t showing her any courtesy. However, sometimes this approach works if the object of your desire is incredibly drunk and she hasn’t been dancing with anybody for the whole night. She might, just might believe that you are a better alternative than dancing with nobody at all.
Now approach two is completely different: It’s called “The Awkward Gentleman” and believe it or not there is a fifty percent chance of it working. Test studies in the field have been done, and it doesn’t always work, but sometimes it will get you a dance. Basically, what you do is walk up to a girl with a casual demeanor, your hands shoved into your pockets, your eyes alert and your smile steady and endearing.
Wave your hand at her to catch her attention, and if she’s with a group of friends then make sure to introduce yourself to all of them and compliment them on their attire rather than their physical features unless you have mad game and you’re a Don Juan Marcos. And you don’t need corny pickup-lines and bad stories because you’re confident, right?
So, look at that girl straight in the eyes, but not so much so that you’re gazing into her like she’s the “one” (after all, love at first sight is an idiom and not real), and ask her if she wants to dance with you. If she takes a step back and frowns at you, then put your hands up in the air and say “Oh. I meant as friends. And I don’t talk a lot.”
Hopefully she’ll think that you’re a nervous guy who means well and she’ll say, “Why the hell not? I’m young, I’m on my sixth Pabst, and your face doesn’t make me want to throw up on the floor. I can make this work.” If this doesn’t happen, just go back onto the dance floor, pound your chest, jump up and down and act like you’re having a good time because you got to raise your esteem back up.
The final approach will most likely get you a dancing partner. It’s really easy, and it’s not hard to pull off provided that you believe in yourself. If you aren’t self-confident, have no fear; drink more than you usually do and bob your head to the bass of the house beat, sway your hips back and forth, and look around for a girl.
Once you’ve found her make eye contact immediately and stare at her for a bit and give her an awesome grin. If she’s into you, she’ll give you the sign: biting her bottom lip, parting her reddish-golden hair to the side and smiling, turning her body so that she’s facing you, hell, she might just beckon you to come over with her finger. Do it man. Don’t walk over to her; dance over to her.
Nod your head along to the tempo of the beat, roll your arms in front of you, spin across the dance floor, shake your elbows by your sides, all while keeping eye contact with her. When you reach the spot where she’s hanging out at, do a small wink, maybe slightly lick your upper lip, shuffle your feet and keep up with the rhythm and lend your hand out and take hers in yours and pull her closer to you and start grooving to the loud kick drum and the misogynistic lyrics by a one-hit winner. Don’t talk English. Speak body language.