Why I love DDPP

Hello lovelies!

I just had to update because I missed DDPP oh, so much on Sunday night. As I mentioned before, I was out of town so we had to take a week off from dancing. Well, the dance spirit doesn’t leave my body so easily and I found the desire to bust a move overwhelming. This, my dear dancers, was my first mistake.

My faithful friend Summer accompanied me to a dance party. It was your typical, non-DDPP scene: the room was full of boys, the booze was flowin’ and judgement hung thick in the air. Summer and I sipped on our drinks as we sat and watched everybody else dancing. I was enjoying being a spectator for awhile and then Beyonce came on. I cannot not dance to Beyonce (my second mistake). I was just imagining that I was wearing a body suit, waving my hand around like it was covered by that weird metal glove thing, pointing to my finger as if it should have had a ring on it. And then… disaster struck. One minute I was innocently belting out “Single Ladies” as I strutted around ridiculously and the next thing I knew a classy gentlemen was grinding all over me. Yes, that’s right, I was a victim of the dreaded ass-crotch. You know the type, a guy who thinks that any woman’s ass is an acceptable place for him to rub his crotch. It ended as soon as it began and the next thing I knew, I was swept up in the middle of the crowd doing the “Cupid Shuffle.” I don’t know if it’s just the vodka cranberries speaking, but it was all a blur… a very unfortunate blur.

This is a perfect reminder of why I love DDPP so much. There is no (unsolicited) ass-crotching going on here. No men who think it is every woman’s dream to have their junk rubbed all over our bodies. No vodka to make us think that doing the “Cupid Shuffle” may be an okay idea. No woman judging me for being THAT GIRL who allows strange men to violate my personal space, giving me no chance to express my distaste for the situation.

I’m officially counting down the days until Sunday, where we can all gather and move joyfully again, free of worries for that glorious hour and a half.

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