Dancing Queens.....

I have never been known for being graceful. Before I reached the age of five, my parents were on a first name basis with the staff at the local emergency room. I had stitches everywhere from the top of my head down to my knees. Before I could seriously injure myself, and to avoid the investigation by CPS that seemed inevitable, my parents enrolled me in dance lessons. I suppose if ballet can help football players with their agility, it should able to improve the coordination of a five year-old little girl. After seven years of ballet, tap, acrobatics, and jazz lessons, one may think I should have been prepared for Broadway. Not the case. While mission #1 was accomplished (limiting trips to the emergency room), I still cannot dance to save my life.

Let me share with you the condition I must be in to dance publicly. First, there is a lot of alcohol....so much that I should be in a state where the room will start to spin any minute. Second, there needs to be a distraction so no one will actually see me dance (whether this is other dancers, some girl losing her lunch in the corner, or naked men on the bar, I don't care......just something or someone to keep the eyes off of me).

Just to illustrate how pathetic I really am, my girlfriends took me on a special outing for my last birthday. First let me say that I am single. I like being single, but apparently it is not socially acceptable - I have 50 year old women at work constantly trying to set me up with their sons. So... the girls take me speed dating. We meet 10 or so ‘eligible bachelors’ from the DC area; Let's just say I can see why they were eligible.

First there was the silent guy; you ask him a question and you are lucky to get a one-word response. He apparently had top-secret job for the Government that he could not discuss on any level…..because he might be hunted down if he did. This is f***ing Washington! Everybody works for the Government and everybody thinks their job is ‘top secret’ - get over it! Just because you answer the phones at the Pentagon and you wear a geeky little name badge around your neck for access, does not make you Michael Chertoff. Please.

Next we had the creepy old man. Mind you, he was probably my favorite, but everyone in the room was under 35....he was closer in age to Peter Boyle. Note: If you are 65+ and looking for a date, you might have better luck testing the waters at an early bird special....or Cafe Milano on a Thursday night.

Finally we have the I-am-too-successful-and-busy-to-meet-a-girl guy. He was so full of himself going on and on about how much money he makes and how challenging his job is. If you are so wealthy and you feel the need to share it with everyone....buy me a drink when my glass is clearly empty. God knows I needed it after listening to him for my obligatory 8 minutes.

After our evening full of dates, the girls and I went down to the SE section of the District to check out some gay strippers. There is nothing like a fully naked man on a bar with his stuff shaking in your face as you order your Kettle One and Soda. I'm not sure if it was the 'decoration' on the bar that kept me going back for more, but let's just say the room was spinning in no time. Lucky for me there were a lot of poles to hold on to.....one of them happened to be on a stage, but I didn't mind one bit. I suppose that is where the 'dancing' began...if you want to call it that.