Save The Last Dance

Mr. Needham
English 1310.130
21 November 2013
Save the Last Dance. Seriously, Save It.
On March 17, 2012 my closest friends and I drove to a dance club in Dallas, Texas to celebrate my 18th birthday. The specific dancing establishment that we traveled to had published many advertisements claiming that they had the “Best Dancers in Dallas,” and I wanted that one to facilitate my first nightclub experience. Sadly, my experience at that club communicated a strong sense of false advertisement and disillusion. By the end of my first and last visit with the “Best Dancers in Dallas,” I developed a system for the purpose of classifying club dancers into one of the three following categories according to what animal they best represent: the Moose, the Octopus, and the Ape are the dancers that I commonly see on the dance floor.
The Moose dancer is the man with a smile filled with charm, who has no trouble asking a woman to dance with him. I was another year older, but unfortunately I was still extremely naïve when I had to decide whether to accept or reject a dance partner, when a Moose dancer stumbled my direction. The Moose had a flawless comb-over hairstyle, which I took notice of immediately. I was still in the process of admiring his physical attributes, when the Moose asked me to dance with him. Using his attractiveness as justification, I accepted and unintentionally fell victim to the Moose’s graceless style of dancing. I was confused when the Moose started to dance because he was shaking his foot in the air like he had a rock stuck in his shoe. After observing this behavior for a minute, I gravely noted that this movement was actually considered dancing for the Moose and I was expected to mimic his movements. While the Moose’s dancing style provides quite a funny show, I have concluded that the Moose dancer’s best move is to smile and remain completely still.
The Octopi dancers have a bohemian and free-spirited style all their own. The Octopus dancer whirls about the dance floor and appears to be swaying to music that only he or she can hear. The night of my 18th birthday I encountered my first Octopus dancer. The Octopus I ran into—in my opinion—actually ran into me, while she was dancing. The Octopi dancers are known to oppose any common dance move and often, they will create their own moves. Because of a non-conformist move that an Octopus made, much too close to me, I received a bruise on my hip. I quickly noticed that her eyes were not even open. I was upset that the Octopus was not paying attention to the direction of her wild movements, but once she had hip-bumped her way back into the conscious world, the Octopus apologized to me numerous times. I already knew that the Octopi dancers were strange, but I was relieved to learn that they are not malicious. The Octopus serves as a divergent fascination for the conventional nightclub attendance but I suggest that club patrons are safer if observing an Octopus from afar.
The

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