The Lost Dance-off

Two weeks ago, my friend and I were having a great time at a bar in Williamsburg. We were dancing our asses off and meeting lots of interesting new folks.

Then my friend started getting into a fight. His opponent thought he had called him the N word.

I stepped in and asked my friend to go to the other side of the bar, in order to preempt any additional motivation for brawling.

For the next 10 minutes, I did my best gandhi impersonation. I put my hands in prayer, smiled, and repeated variations of “I don’t know what happened brother, but let’s just make peace and have a good time.” (To this day, neither I nor my friend know if he actually said the N word).

His would-be sparring partner continued to try to start a fight.

“Let’s take this outside.”

“Your friend is a d***.”

“You can smile all you want man but you need to bring your friend over here.”

When the fight had diffused, I went over to my friend, and replaced gandhi-mode with angry-mode. The almost-fight had killed the night’s vibe. We were having a good time, dancing and talking with friends, but now the energy had shifted from groove to grill. We went home early.

Twenty minutes of steaming male aggression is enough to ruin a simple night of dancing. So how is all the nation-wide aggression both for and against Trump affecting our collective vibe?

How many dance-offs are being lost?


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