Most men won’t dance. They feel like dorks doing it and really are only willing to dance with you if they are loaded or complete horndogs. We’ve all witnessed the guy dance: thumbs stuck in front pockets, legs stick-straight as they hop insitu until Billy Idol stops singing. But then there are those old guys who learned to dance the proper way. They’re a dying breed, but you can still see them at weddings cutting a rug with their wives, their Florsheims floating above the parkay flooring. They too are half in the bag but they just want to foxtrot.
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