Bitchitorial
(The view from the Editor's Chair)
Oct 6th, 2003
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
A very dear friend of mine LOVES 70's disco. So she invited a bunch of us
to go out one night to a local club to see a 70's cover band called, (wait for it)
"Disco Inferno". Kitsch to the max, this 10-piece band was decked out in heinous
polyester, wigs, spandex platform/spike shoes and glitter. The singers
were good enough to do very credible covers of everything from Donna Summer to
Michael Jackson, and the sax and trumpet players were incredible.
It was a good laugh, but it was even more amusing watching kid's who were still
wearing diapers at the end of the 70's trying to do "disco"... And this is where
my short, shameful confession comes in:
I was a teenage disco queen.
I know my detractors will find it hard to believe (After all, I'm supposed to be a fat, hairy, ugly man-hating lesbian),
but it's embarrassingly true.
Yes. I wore spandex. And satin tops. And 4-inch spike-heeled shoes (god knows how
I danced in them!). Some friends and I were actually "dancer extras" on a hokey Canadian TV variety show called
"The Raes" (marginally famous for a Disco version of "Que Sera Sera") way back in '79/'80.
We were given free record albums (yes, boys and girls, VINYL back in those days) and the opportunity to
see the likes of Grace Jones and similar stars, up close and personal.
I saw Abba and Earth Wind and Fire in concert. I owned every K-Tel album.
And even more shameful than that: I taught "Disco Dance" classes for the local community center.
Though I can no longer remember the steps to "The Hustle", I remember teaching the classes to eager young 12 and 13 yr-olds in some High-school gymnasium
as their parents watched on from the sidelines.
Fortunately, (for a while), the spandex and polyester disappeared. Unfortunately, some of it seems to have made a resurgence recently.
Regrettably, one thing that did not go away with the end of the '70's was the disco Lounge Lizard.
I am sad to report that he is alive and all too well, and STILL hasn't figured out how NOT to be a complete dork.
However, even more sad is that his shtick MUST work, SOMETIMES, or he wouldn't keep using it. It's the same thing that keeps
spammers sending out emails - SOME people must respond, or they wouldn't keep at it.
I remember the first time I came across a full-on lounge lizard at a club. I was 16, and my friends and I had
managed to get past the doorman without ID. We were not out to get drunk or "picked up" - we were out to dance
and have fun. Unfortunately, there were always a subset of guys who would try to buy us drinks or latch onto us and try to hang
around our table all night. We generally refused to accept drinks from anyone because that gave them the idea that they had
some kind of first rights on us, meaning nobody else would ask us up to dance.
That night I had my first lesson in Heartless Bitchiness from my friend Anita. A man we estimated to be in his mid-40s
was hanging around our table and pestering us. He had a fake Spanish accent and said his name was
"Fernando". After several polite attempts to dissuade "Fernando", Anita became frustrated with his inability to
accept that we were NOT interested in his advances, and that we found him neither sexy nor charming. She leaned across the table towards him, motioned him to
come closer so he could hear over the music, and when he got close enough she said, "Fernando... FUCK THE DOG."
I've never seen anyone scramble away from a table so quickly with his figurative tail between his legs.
Another time, as I was coming off the dance floor, covered in sweat from dancing 5 songs straight, this guy asked me to dance.
I said, "Sure, I just have to go to the bathroom and towel off, and I'll come back for the next song, ok?"
He looked at me and said, "You beautiful girls are all the same, stuck up bitches!"
Wha???? Talk about someone clearly OUT to get laid, and NOT getting any! Could he not SEE the sweat pouring off my
face? If he'd paid any attention at all he would have seen me dancing with anyone who asked that night.
No- he clearly had an agenda, and if the woman didn't respond immediately, he went into asshole mode.
Politeness went out the window. I replied with a "Fuck you," and walked away. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
(I later found out that he had been hitting on Anita and trying to get her to LEAVE with him. When he wouldn't take a polite NO for an answer, she
told him not-so-politely to "Keep it in your pants".)
Flash forward some 20+ years...
I ran into another Lounge Lizard at the Disco night this past month. He asked me to dance, and I accepted. Though I am quite happy to dance by myself or with friends, I'll still
dance with anyone who asks. I respect that it's hard for some people to get up the courage to ask someone to dance, and I don't see accepting a dance as an obligation to anything further.
The guy was decked out in tacky polyester, but I thought he might just be playing it up for the
night - several people were sporting glitter tops and afro's and big-collared polyester shirts. I could even write off his bad hair to his attempt to play it up for the night.
However, I am disheartened to report, his ATTITUDE was not put on for the sake of the show. And the worst of it is that I am SURE this guy probably calls himself a "nice guy" out there in the big bad world.
Men, for future reference, when dancing with a TOTAL stranger, do NOT clap your hands at her and shout things like, "ooh yeah, baby, you are HOT!" and "yeah baby, yeah!"
It's hard to describe all the things this guy did wrong, but women - you KNOW what I am talking about when I say that this guy could make any
conscious woman's skin crawl within 30 seconds. Perhaps it was the leering and the attempts at trying to dirty dance with me. Perhaps
it was his total lack of rhythm combined with an attitude that implied he felt he was all that AND a bag o' chips.
I guess what really stood out is that he wasn't just out there to have fun - he was out there to try and pick someone up, and THAT signal came through loud and clear. He wasn't
interested in me particularly. He was interested in ANYONE who would give him an opportunity. He reeked of it.
It was all I could do to keep a straight face. I kept dancing with him to see how far he would take it, taking precautions NOT to make eye contact.
If you make eye-contact with these types, they think they might have a chance with you, and will stick to your side like a leach thereafter.
My friends were killing themselves laughing and making faces at me when his back was turned.
I considered it research, and stuck it out till the end of the song.
The things a writer has to do to for material...
heartlessly,
-Natalie
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