Just a few weekends ago, I did something that I knew I probably wouldn't like, simply because it was something new. A friend of mine was going to a club with a bunch of friends and asked me if I wanted to go along. The particular club that they were going to was one of the ones in my town that I had never been to. I had several different reasons for never going. For one, I knew that the music they played wasn't my type. On most nights, their DJ's spun Top 40 hits (both current and old), and sometimes they featured cover bands or even country music.

On this night, I didn't have anything in particular planned, and I had seen everything that I wanted to see at the theater. I knew that the place they were going would be packed, so I thought that by some fateful chance I might run into someone with at least partially the same interests as me. Right before we left, I changed my mind back and forth several times, but then decided to stick with my choice and bear it.

Upon entering the club and paying the exorbinant cover, I was greeted with a remix of Michael Jackson from the speakers. Knowing that the DJ could have thrown it in for cheese factor, I shook it off and went further in. Once I got into the main part of the club, I was surprised at its size. At one time, it had been a huge movie theater, but it had been turned into a massive club, replete with full bars on each end. My friend had been correct about it being packed. There were people standing along the walls everywhere, and almost every table that I could see was full as well. Glasses and bottles clanked in the background as the bartenders served up drinks as fast as humanly possible.

After a few moments, we came upon the group of people that my friend was looking for and we sat down and started talking. I was introduced to everyone, but they soon went back to the conversation that they were in when I arrived. After a few moments, a couple people got up to leave from the table and announced they were going to get some drinks. I asked for a soda and they went off to get everything. While they were gone, I started surveying the dancefloor and the rest of the area around me. C + C Music Factory was bursting from the speakers and everyone was jamming hard to it. I noticed that several guys were "raising the roof." I hadn't seen that done in awhile. Another very funny thing that I saw was all the people dancing. There were only about 20 people on the dance floor at this time, but there were tons of people sitting in their chairs and shaking it. I watched for awhile as one girl sang along with every single lyric while she shook her arms and head around. She never once left her chair, though.

I turned around and saw several of these 'chair dancers' grooving around with their butt firmly glued in place. After one more song (Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch), the DJ stopped and I could hear the strums of a guitar being tuned. By this time the drinks had arrived and I was told that this was the cover band. I guessed that they would start their set with one of two songs and I was correct as they tore into "Walkin' On The Sun" by Smashmouth. Although they were a cover band, it was kind of fun to watch them mimic the songs and bands they were singing. After ripping through a couple other 'Alternative Rock' tunes, I heard a familiar synth noise. Before I knew it, they had started into "Blue Monday" by New Order. Instead of staying true to the dreary classic, they tried to spruce it up a bit. Needless to say, I couldn't wait for that slaughter to be over.

After a couple more tunes, the band took a break and the DJ once again came on. This time, when the music came on, the dancefloor got packed. It was body to body and there was barely any room for more. I picked up my second soda for the evening and just started walking around the place, wondering if I would run into somebody that felt as out of place as I did. I walked by people with hockey hair (see Jaromir Jagr) and was stalked by the overwhelming cologne and perfume of mating machines out on the prowl. I eventually found myself on the opposite side of the floor as the group of people that I had originally met. I felt more at ease knowing I didn't have to try and be friendly or talk to people that I knew didn't really want to talk to me.

I simply stood and watched people out on the dance floor. I saw people grinding hard and making out as if they were alone. Others took quick glances their way and either laughed or were disgusted (or perhaps jealous). I watched as guys tried to put the moves on, and girls simply turned around and danced the other way. Some were noticibly good, while others couldn't dance to the beat to save their soul.

When "C'Mon Ride The Train" by the Quad City DJ's came on, I leaned over on the railing and started chuckling to myself. I was completely absorbed with watching the dancefloor and the different people out there. Suddenly, I was tapped on the shoulder and a girl started speaking to me. I know that I was visibly startled, but she asked me to dance anyway. I was so startled that all I could say was, "I don't really care for this song." It was the first time I'd ever been asked to dance by someone that I didn't know at all and it really surprised me. I watched as the girl went out on the dance floor and started grooving anyway.

After awhile, I walked around to where everyone else was sitting. I talked a bit with them, but I fell out of the conversation and just ended up watching the people out on the dancefloor until the place closed. My friend came up to me afterwards and asked me why I didn't dance to the music. I told her that I didn't like it and I couldn't dance to something that I didn't really like. I could have gone out and done silly dances all night and poked fun at the music, but I would have had about the same amount of fun that I did standing around watching people. My musical snobbery had defeated me again.

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