Somehow or another, I found myself in a club in North Wildwood on Saturday night. Trust me, this is not my scene. However, this is a moment that will live forever in my memory, so why not share it with the internet?
Picture this. I am standing against a high top table along the fringes of the room, arms crossed, going on my third hour of waiting for a good song to be played by the DJ (preferably one without the same stupid techno beat that he's been playing over and over and over again), being the responsible designated driver, and having had nothing alcoholic to drink because it's possible that I will be called upon to drive us to another club soon. I'm entertaining myself by watching the drunk people around me perform elaborate courtship rituals which involve lots of fist pumping and dancing while holding their drinks. (I surmise that this is why white people are rumored to have no rhythm, that if they would just put the drinks down, they could let their inner rhythm demons loose.) I am amazed at the number of men who have definitely spent a lot more time fixing their hair tonight than I did. I see evidence of Jersey Shore style blowouts and ample usage of hair product. As the hours have passed, the crowd has gotten younger and drunker. I am convinced that there are at least some boys in possession of fake IDs, because they don't look old enough to shave.
So, me, leaning against table, arms crossed. A gentleman is passing by the table, in possession of the aforementioned blown out hairstyle, a popped collar polo shirt, and a fabulous tan (Gym Tan Laundry, perhaps?). He stops in front of me. He steps closer, reaches down, and uncrosses my arms from my chest. He leans in and says, "This is very negative body language that you have goin' on here. Open these arms up. See, better." Shocked that a stranger would dare put his hands on me, I can only stare. He leans in closer, plants a kiss on my cheek, whispers in my ear, "You're beautiful," and shimmies his way onto the dance floor. I am struck dumb, and turn in shock to my companions, who ask, "Did he just lay one on you?" "Yes. Yes, he did." And then I laugh, because it is just that ridiculous.
I even managed to dance to a few horrible techno songs after that. Apparently, a kiss from a stranger is as good as a few shots.