That's What You Think:
Everybody, Please Don't Dance Now

Published 10.02.01 in The Heights, Boston College


By Annie Barrett

Since this column has fit into the “shameless” category for its past two installments (admission of StalkerNet obsession; discussion of Stair Sweat), you would think its creator might take a step back to regain some sense of respectability.

Not so. In fact, here’s another time where I get to say, “That’s what you think” and you get to think, Dude, we get it. It’s the name of the column. It’s not that ironic.

Yeah, okay. You should know I’m making the “W” sign at you right now.
Anyway, speaking of shameless, let’s discuss another thing we all do that’s entirely shameless and yet – like stalking and sweating – completely unavoidable and pretty entertaining: dancing.

I’m talking casual, oft-drunken, crowd-induced dancing. We’ve all done it and we’ll probably all have to do it again. But let’s at least take time to note how ridiculous we look.

There are two types of dancers, listed below.

Type A: Those who think they’re good.
Type B: Those who know they’re horrible.

Now, if those classifications make it appear that I don’t think anyone is truly a good dancer, that’s exactly the notion I was going for: Nicely interpreted.

It’s just that given the way we students dance … you just can’t be “good at it” because there really is no “it.” What are we even supposed to do? We gather that a general cadence, a certain “attitude” and some sort of arm movement are necessary, but honestly, without proper dance training, how should we be expected to pull it all together?

The Type As have it all figured out, and they know it. Look at them moving so fluidly. I look cool. Check me out – like, now.

But one Type A recently admitted, in a confidential TWYT “collegiate confessional” sit-in, that such proud aloofness is really just an act. It’s more like: I hope no one can tell I don’t actually know what I’m doing.
That’s pretty comforting.

Being a Type B, however, provides the opposite of comfort. I can speak from experience: we flail, we jerk and for what? We get to sweat more.

Note: It should go without saying that dancing should never occur on the Higgins stairs. Passersby would need to shield noses as well as eyes, and hands wouldn’t be available to grope around in delirious desperation for the railings. No good could come of such a display.

There are many things “wrong” with the way we dance, but most notably odd is the open-mouth phenomenon (OMP). For some reason, we feel a strange need to convey a creepy mixture of excitement, surprise and assumed coolness via a painfully wide-open mouth.

Look around as you dance: each mouth is relentless. It just won’t close.
After conducting an in-depth experiment involving one particularly shameless volunteer of the TWYT Executive Dance Branch, it was concluded that there’s really nothing “phenomenal” about the OMP: it literally cannot be prevented.

The experiment involved the volunteer and myself executing the ever-popular “hip bump” – you know, arms in the air, hips colliding in the middle during a sort of “Yeow!” moment. The hip bump – which often is replaced by the “butt bump,” but shouldn’t be, ever – is always contrived and never spontaneous, which adds to its already high level of stupidity.

Anyway, numerous onlookers deduced, based on three consecutive tries, that it is scientifically impossible for the mouth to remain closed during the hip bump. I guess it’s just that exciting.

The same applies for individual, freestyle dancing. We don’t have time to consider how to construct our faces given the daunting, near-unbearable task of arranging our bodies, and so the OMP prevails.

Most Type B dancers invent their own dance style, which at first is quite embarrassing but eventually, through the aid of shots, becomes really cool … or so we think.

The most common style from which many awkward variations can be derived is the muted head-bop. The head-bop is executed by Type Bs looking to exert little to no effort in the dance arena, and is always accompanied by a pursed lip, “S’cool, s’cool” facial expression. No … it’s so not cool. And I know it.

Also popular is the one-hand fist pump, which is great because one arm is already taken care of and Type Bs need only worry about the other wayward limb.

But as the fist pump continues, the dancers begin to look like Mario or Luigi trying to pound through the brick ceilings. I really play way too much Nintendo in my dorm room. And not even the new, cool kind. We have original NES. Oh, killer acronym.

Type Bs can always incorporate some sort of double-arm action into their style, in which they appear to be attempting a sense of balance in a world of uncertainty (see middle dancer, pictured above).

The absolute worst thing a Type B can do in the center of a thriving dance floor is stand still. Even for those lacking any confidence, it’s better to fall into imminent failure and just go for it. Eventually, the immobile will always succumb to the ridiculousness around them and start thrashing around uncontrollably, not understanding how or why he would put himself through such utter torture.

God, I love to dance.

Next TWYT: Jogging