Redlining with Joe Ullo: Dance Floor Falcons

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This month we’re going to focus on dudes! Not all dudes, but you know the ones: It’s a dance event, they’re not dancing at all, probably standing at the far edge of the dance floor, and if they had tail feathers they’d be fully fanned out.

I call them “dance floor falcons.”

Look, it’s a DANCE event and that’s precisely what 99.99% of people are here to do, except you guys. I know you want to think you’re so ultra-fuckable that you’re going to hook up with the first girl you zero in on, but chances are, it’s not happening.

Yes, I get that dance scene girls these days have half of their ass hanging out of their clothes (I must be getting old because give me a candy-wearing girl in Kikwear phat pants and a visor over that stuff any day), and it’s tempting. But believe it or not, they’re not advertising booty. They’re out there to dance with their friends and look as sexy as they want to feel, not to be creeped on by a bunch of clowns with the wrong idea.

But there you are, standing off to the side, surveying the spoils with that “cool guy” look on your face. Seriously, are you squinting? It’s dark as hell in here. You probably have your shirt off too. Nice. So you lift? Here’s your medal. Either that, or you’re wearing so much fluorescent garbage that you look like you were kicked off the set of a ’90s Nerf commercial. Not very cunning when you’re easier to spot than a flamingo in a hen-house. Way to blend in, bro.

I wish it ended there, I really do. But unfortunately some shit-birds aren’t content with simply perching. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen these idiots call a girl over, act as though they want to tell her something, and then move in and try and to kiss her neck or outright try and make out with her.

What on Earth is wrong with you?! Has that actually worked in the past?! I know every time I’ve seen this go down, not once has the girl blurted out, “Oh my god, Voltaire! What smooth moves! Take me to pound town!” More often than not, a hilarious scene unravels involving protective friends, or if I’m really lucky, an ass-whoopin’ is handed out by the unseen boyfriend our “rave-Romeo” didn’t notice standing nearby.

Don’t even get me started on those of you who look for, or wait for, the ladies who have had too much to drink. I’m trying to keep these articles humorous, and you’re pretty much a rapist. So let’s move on.

The point is, it’s time to grow up, gentlemen. It’s not just the young guys I’ve seen doing this; there have been accounts I recall of men as old as my father pulling this shit. You’re in the wrong place for what you’re looking for, and you’re ruining the vibe with your antics.

So go home, thrown on some Porn Hub, and take care of yourself. These ladies are with the DJ tonight.

 

 

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Aside from a writer, Joe Ullo is also a DJ, comedian, food-porn specialist, and all-around audiophile.