5:11 p.m. - 2007-04-06
the lamest dance ever (or at least so far...)
OK, now I must tell you about the dance at the "con." Wait, no, first I must give you background.
I love to dance. I have always loved to dance. I revel in dancing with other dancers, or an audience, or to really good music. I was once in a club where I was the *only* one dancing because I liked the band that much. But that was not a dance, that was a club full of idiots and luzers. What I witnessed at the con was billed as a dance.
Notice I said "billed as a dance." This means it was listed in the official program for the weekend. Everyone knew it was a dance. People got dressed up for it. Now, at a sci-fi convention, getting dressed up for a dance does not mean cocktail dresses and sportcoats. It means masquerade/costume party. Which is fine. Generally.
But waist cinches should not be worn as corsets. EVER. Not even if you are a (stateside) bra size of 44JJ. Perhaps especially not then. But, I suppose when you are a 44jj, you figure that there is safety in numbers. Which is why there was a herd of heffalumps (my dad's terms) wandering around with barely concealed nipples tucked into the top of waist cinches. Oh, yes, the males stared. So did some of the non-con females. As did I. From a costumer's point of view, it was so many levels of wrong that I was dismayed. Not that I said anything to them. They were all happy and proud and I'm not going to be a skinny beeatch who rains on their parade. Nonetheless... ladies--if you've got a 3 inch gap at the laces, reconsider the garment.
But back to the dance. I was not in costume--I'm an actress, if you don't give me a character, I'm not getting into a costume. No one gave me a character, hence I wore my sweater & blue jeans. So I walk into the room where they're holding the dance. first, only a quarter of the room was set up as dance floor. That's fine, I can dance on carpet. Second, the only place lit is the dance floor. That's fine, I happen to be a fan of "just dancin' in the dark." Third, at 10:00pm, the oldest person on the dance floor was SEVEN YEARS OLD. I am not making this up. I know this kid, and have know him since he was 9 months old, and I have no problem sharing a dance floor with him.
What bugged me to the point of leaving was:
1. There was no music for your average person to DANCE to.
2. There was no music for ME to dance to.
I'm sorry, but when I'm there for 5 songs and only 2 are songs I can dance to...we have problems. I can understand not wanting to play songs that cause nipple poppage...except that a GUY was running the sound system. It was, quite simply, the lamest dance I've ever been too. Bad music that no one can dance to and NO ONE was complaining. Why call it a dance? Why not call it "SRO with Background Music?" Because that's what we had.
Which is why Tucker & I walked in, listened for about an eight count (I'm a dancer, everything is in eights except waltzes) and walked out. The only way that song could have been danced would have involved sylistic moves with a man or woman that one knows intimately. Tucker and I don't know each other that well. I'm not sure my *husband* and i know each other that well. More accurately, we're not in the shape to dance it right. Think anorexic vampire dance floor seduction--that's the sort of song it was. Yeah. And that was *typical.*
Really, lamest dance ever. And if I'm there next year, I will bring my own dance music. Because... bless their hearts, geeks don't get dances.
