Dirty Dancing

"Due to a disturbing decline in dance lessons, most Americans can't tell a tango from a mango." (groupon.com)

Most of my friends' experiences with dancing began in 7th grade at raunchy Bar/Bat Mitzvahs. We all know the scene: Forty or so 13 year-olds paired off, dancing to songs with lyrics we thought we understood, boys' hands all over regions we young teenage girls didn't know we had until they were being fervently groped by our eager pubescent counterparts. It was heaven for middle school boys. And my fellow females and I got plenty excited for these parties, too. We looked forward to -- and replayed in our minds for weeks after -- dancing with boys we liked; drinking in the smell of their Abercrombie cologne was as intoxicating as the spirits we had not yet experienced. (In my case, anyway.)

When my mother came to pick me up from one such party, she broke the rules of parent-child relations by coming inside instead of waiting in the car like she was supposed to. Later she confessed that she was appalled by what she saw and described it as a scene from "Jungle Fever." (I still haven't seen the movie, but I don't doubt her comparison.) But we were only 13. We weren't expected to dance properly.

Now we're in our twenties. A couple months ago a group of friends and I went to a bar downtown to do what college kids do. When we hit the dance floor I had an immediate flashback to the days of "Who Let the Dogs Out" and it hit me: Nobody knows how to dance these days! Buuut that's not completely true. There are a select number of Generation Y-ers who know how to properly dance with a partner. Unfortunately, the skill is not equally distributed between males and females. To find a man who can dance is like striking oil. That night downtown I did have one friend who could lead me in a dance and keep his hands where they ought to have been. I find this kind of dancing a lot more fun, not to mention those boys a lot more attractive! But come on, I'm not an old fart. I know that when you're out at a club or a bar, that kind of dancing doesn't really fit the mood, and that's fine.

But let it be known that there is somewhere bumping and grinding is NOT appropriate and we all had better get wise, QUICK! Weddings. I am fearful that in the next five years when my friends start to get married, people my age will cause some Baby Boomers to go into cardiac arrest when they dance to Marvin Gaye's "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" like it's Sisqo's "Thong Song." So, ladies, let's pressure our guy friends to watch some "Dirty Dancing" (how ironic) with us and learn how to take us for a spin around the dance floor while also studying the moves ourselves. As for the men, if you ask us to dance and surprise us with your skills, take it from me, you will immediately be 100% better looking.