This is my dance space. This is your dance space.

I like to get jiggy on the dance floor.

This results in a bit of a conundrum in the Netherlands:

1. There are a MASSIVE amount of hip clubs, that play anything and everything you could ever want to hear. I have been to maybe 11% of these and have loved.them.all. Clubbing is also not restricted to short foreign men or wealthy bankers, who order bottle service but don't actually leave the table. It's typical Dutch to end up at a club at the end of the night, often until 5am or so -- even for the tall, blond, awkwards.
2. Despite the mainstream popularity of clubs and dancing, the Dutch have not progressed beyond the white man's shuffle and think you are some sort of alien if you actually get down.

Erin B (which sorta sounds like Eric E) rolled in from the Village of Chocolate & Fondue last weekend for a little "back to school" bonding. The daring and inquisitive soul that she is suggested we try some place we've never been and try to make out with Dutch guys -- primped and pre-partied to the nines, we headed out to Hotel Arena. As the first "real" night I had been out since, oh, the Equinox, I was stoked and the evening started on a good note with an aged cabbie hitting on us (I am loved!) and impeccable timing -- we walked in right before the lines started outside. It was Disco classics night. Different. Awesome.

But, sure enough, X songs and Y drinks into our night, some guy comments to Erin B that he knew she wasn't Dutch because she moved too much when she danced. And some tall mofo said the same to me, noting it was his "first" with an American (dude! it's dancing, not sex, chill). This isn't the only occasion I've caught this sort of flack: Around this time last year, a guy called me out on my non-Dutchness because I was too "dancey" (actually, I am going to the next iteration of that birthday party tonight -- I hope he's there so I can pump my ass in face and ask if that's too "dancey" for him, the smug balding wanker).

Legitimately, I have been critiqued by non-Nederlanders in the past for, uh, overly aggressive, freak-a-licious dancing. But please recognize that I am now a mature adult and no longer try to "bring sexy back" by doing splits in bowling shoes or bend bassakward while using my dance partner as a pole (though this may be attributed to a "grown up" lack of flexibility as opposed to actual maturing).

So -- mission critical this weekend is to rip into at least one guy bobbing his head to the beat while shifting from one foot to the other with his hands in little fists (how do you like me NOW!). And, I'll also try to be more observant of my fellow woman, see what it is exactly that makes us Amerikanen more prominent dancers. Let's hope it's not the pelvic thrusting -- I mean, who's going to give that up?