My entire game used to be dance floor grinding. I was that guy that would go to the loudest, cheesiest clubs and rub my crotch on a girl’s ass. It was easier than making conversation and a quick way to hook up. I met a lot of girls like this, though none of them really stick out in my mind today.
The day my game changed forever was in Atlantic City around Christmas time 2002. My friend and I lost our money early and roamed through the casino floor waiting for Trump’s Casbah Club to open. We see two cute girls walk by and sit by the slot machines. I was pushed to approach them but I resisted, “What am I going to say?” My friend replied, “Why can’t you walk up to a girl like a normal person and talk to her?” Even though he was projecting his own feelings, he had a damn good point.
It’s not even three years later and I hate dance floor game. I hate going to a club where I have to yell in someone’s ear just to say hi. I hate how the guys trying desperately to dance with a girl – any girl – remind me of how lame I used to be. And I hate dancing to music I don’t like. While dancing is still fun, checking out the dance moves of a girl I like up-close doesn’t give me any idea on what she’s like. I became a pro at getting numbers of girls I was incompatible with.
I think it’s normal for guys to go through a leg humping phase in their early twenties. It grounds them and the rejection builds confidence. But I still wonder about that 35 year old in the club who still humps girls. Doesn’t he know that at his age he should be buying girls drinks and flashing his BMW key?