Then, he put his arm around my waist and tried to dip me. I was wearing a mini-skirt; I wasn't dip-ready! I pulled my hand away to tug at my skirt because I was pretty sure that I was flashing the entire place.
I feel like guys who don't know how to dance pull this Fred Astaire shit out of nowhere. Aside from doing the white-man-overbite, inappropriate fancy dancers are my least favorite dance partners. This is how awkward fifth graders dance at Bar Mitzvahs, not how tipsy adults dance to Tom Petty.
We are not ballroom dancers. I'm not a ballerina in a jewelry box. I'm not a wedding cake topper come to life. Please stop.