Why is it that when a women in asked to dance at a club, men think it's 1) an invitation to make conversation even though for the most part a woman can't hear them above the music anyway; and 2) they think it's an opportunity for a gratuitus feel up session? For the record, well speaking for myself at least, it's neither. If I want to engage in conversation, I'll do it off the dance floor in an area where I can hear and be heard. And for the most insulting part, I am not dancing in order to attract a men's unsolicited and unwanted advances nor do I want his grimey hands all over me. What's with that shit anyway?
Just recently while at a club, I had a guy come up to me and try to engage in conversation while dancing with me meanwhile we were standing right in front of the speaker. I purposely refused to engage his attempt at conversation and then he had the audacity to tell me to turn around so he could bump and grind my ass. SCREACH! That's when I pumped the brakes and danced away from his triflin ass and gave him the infamous hand to the grill when he tried to dance back on me. There was no way, no how that I was going to tolerate that shit.
The night progresses and some stank and sweaty guy decides he wants to dance. I decline and he keeps trying by pulling my arm. Now, I'm not one prone to violence, but the idea of some man pulling on me is pretty offensive and will inspire the Malcolm X in me to come out and dispense an industrial sized can of whoop ass. As his luck would have it, my friend stepped in to try and save him by dancing with me, but seeing as it was a girl, he appeared not to be threatened. Well, we decided to lay it on thick and make it seem like we were "together", it worked for a minute until his testosterone kicked in and I guess he was kinda turned on. Oh, too bad for him because I used it to flip the situation and commence to emasculating his dumb ass. He kept making comments and pressing his luck by telling me what he thought he could do for me. Man, did he open a the can. I then told him that he was unattractive, he smelled, and that he couldn't do shit for me than I was already doing for myself. In addition, his dick was probably too small to accommodate the women in me and that I could buy a dick bigger and better than his. OH HELL YEAH, I SAID THAT!!! That was my industrial strength verbal whoop ass. After that, he finally got the picture and left me alone. My decoy, slapped me a high five and we laughed our asses off as he skulked away.
Social Skills are not something that everyone has, but all should possess. It's apparent that I used mine to the umpteenth power.