After Miley Cyrus’ raunchy performance at the VMA’s last
month, I think it’s fair to say that everyone on the planet with access to the
internet now knows what the word ‘Twerk’ means. But before arriving in the
States I had never actually heard the word used before. Call me old fashioned
but when I was confronted with some guy at a house party asking me to twerk, I
just looked at him with utter bemusement. I had no idea what he was talking
about. To those readers who are still a little confused, I am talking about the
dance move which seems most popular here; dry-humping.
I’m not going to lie, but I was a little outraged to find
that at a house party, where all the lights are on and people are just having
casual conversations sitting on sofa’s that apparently it’s ‘normal’ for girls
to grind on guys in the middle of the sitting room. This was another ‘I have to
close my mouth to stop catching flies and gaping in shock’ moment.
It is fair to say that the nightlife and parties here are
very different to back home. I can’t imagine walking into The University of
Kent’s Student Union club ‘Venue’ to find only couples on the dance floor
getting it on. When I go out with my girlfriends at home we dance in groups,
handbag in the middle of the circle style, free-styling and singing at the top
of our voices. There is never a need to have a guy permanently stuck to our
hips to have fun. So I guess we now all have Miley to thank for introducing the
world to the twerking dance craze.
Even the clubs are different here, if you can call them
that! Downtown is filled with small bars where you can easily hop from one to
the next, there’s no Oceana or Vodka Revolution here! Perhaps it’s because I’m
not in a big city like LA or Chicago but in Five Point’s, Columbia, SC going
out has a whole different meaning. Sure, there’s the standard drunk character’s
you meet in every bar; the Fresher who’s had too much to drink and throwing up
in the toilet, the sleazy guy in the corner trying to look you up and down, the
cute one that will never come over and introduce himself, the pushy girl who
elbows her way in front of you to get to the bar, and the emotional one sitting
in the corner crying over her ex. But with the drinking age limit being 21
instead of 18 it’s as if the girls here have never seen boys before and
therefore tend to go crazy Miley-style when they’re finally allowed out.
However, I prefer classy to crazy, so I’m going to stick with my ‘hands to
myself’ dancing for now!
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