Chris Walker Versus

Women always seem to get a hard time on the Versus. What, with their born-again virgin shenanigans; their abysmal 7-11 shopping habits; when ex-girlfriends with walrus body types mistakenly message me on Facebook looking for validation – women seem to be getting constantly slammed here. Guys do stupid things too, though, and sometimes these stupid things need to be brought to everyone’s attention. Coincidentally, these stupid things tend to happen when interacting with women.

I went on the Santa Pub Crawl last Saturday night. I was with a large group; we ate dinner at the Sante Fe, a local Basque restaurant, then family members watched a Santa receive a lap dance at the strip club across the street. It was a festive occasion, to say the least. After a few more bars and Christmas carols under the Reno Arch at midnight, most of my party bailed and I was left to attend to four ladies still ready to party.

The five of us went to a club or lounge – basically a casino-bound venue aspiring to be one of the two in Reno – I bought everyone a drink, then it was time for dancing. That is what women do after all. Dance. I did my best to keep up, feigning rhythm, trying not to spill my Crown and Red Bull. All of the girls in my group were attractive – even the older ones – so it was inevitable one of them would get hit on. Surprise, surprise, that’s exactly what happened.

Within minutes, a short, run-of-the-mill douchebag started dancing with what we’ll call The Matriarch. The Matriarch is married; she has two kids; she obviously wasn’t interested however; to outsiders, she probably appeared to be the leader of our group (hence, The Matriarch). The Matriarch did her best to ignore Short Douche but he couldn’t take a hint. Finally, I leaned toward him:

Me: “Hey buddy, hate to be the bearer of bad news but her husband told me if any guy hit on his wife I had to knock him out.”
Short Douche: “What?”
Me: “Her husband told me if any guy tries dancing with her I have to knock him out.”
Short Douche: “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to get with her, I like that one,” he said, referring to one of the younger, taller, attractive girls in our group. Short Douche was a stout five foot five.
Me: “Sorry, she’s off limits, too.”
Short Douche turned to the The Matriarch. The Matriarch confirmed. Short Douche apologized. We told him it was no big deal. We all had a laugh. Short Douche walked away.

Afterward, as I continued doing my best impression of someone who can dance, I reflected on what had happened. Although Short Douche wanted, let’s call her YTAG, he started his approach by dancing with The Matriarch. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that Short Douche’s strategy – get in good with The Matriarch, then go after your target – was from Neil Strauss’ The Game, a book which may or may not be about how to pick-up women. (I cannot confirm this because Dong Wang borrowed and never returned my copy of The Game before I was able to read it. That’s called stealing.) I think Short Douche had it wrong, though, because if I’ve learned anything from hungover Saturday marathons of VH1’s “How to Pick Up Insecure Skanks with Mystery” show it’s that if there’s a guy in the group of girls you’re approaching, you’ve got to get in his good graces otherwise he’ll shut you down. Which is exactly what happened. I also think there’s a rule about lingering, like, if you wait to long to establish contact you just look like a creep, but I’m not entirely sure. It doesn’t even matter though because, aside from the fact everything I’ve mentioned is common sense, none of it works when a group of girls are dancing together.

Why, you ask? Because when a group of women are on the dance floor, dancing with each other, the last thing they want you, as a guy, to do is hit on them. They’re not interested, they’re there to dance. Seriously. This means they’re annoyed by your advances. This means they’re not impressed when you start grinding your crotch into their outer thigh. This means you’re going to be ignored if you start dancing around them, trying to get their attention. Finally, this means if you try any of the aforementioned you’re a fucking idiot. None of it works…unless you’re on Spring Break in Cancun or at something like a Bloody Beetroots show. Then, anything goes.

The Bloody Beetroots: Cornelius. Directed by BornToFilm.

So, stop trying to dance with girls when they’re dancing with their girlfriends at the club, fellas. The chances of you infiltrating their posse or hooking up with one of them by approaching them on the dance floor is slim to none. You only make yourself look stupid. If you really want to meet a girl at a club do it while she’s at the bar. Buy her a drink, then ask her if she wants to dance. If she accepts then you can grind your crotch into her outer thigh. Otherwise you’re wasting your time. And chances are, the clubs you’re trying to “hook up” at don’t look anything like The Bloody Beetroots’ video for “Cornelius”. And if they do, call me, we should hang out.