Dear Tourette’s…

Posted: February 9, 2011 in Tourettes
Tags: , , , ,

Of all your dances, the one I like the least has got to be the Perv Swerve.

Okay, in theory it’s kind of hilarious. Crunch the stomach in, lean back, contract lower abs. Thrust forward slightly, jerk spastically to the side, swing hips around, jerk spastically to the other side. Rinse. Repeat. Uhhh. Yeahhh. C’mon. Almost like a maimed, ketamine-addled Usher doing Conan’s string dance. So yeah, it’s kind of hilarious. Except me humping the air equals me symbolically humping anyone near me. Hence the name: Perv Swerve.

You and your complex motor tics. It’s pretty impressive how creative you get sometimes. You sick bastard.

This stuff really is funny when I’m all by myself. ‘Oh Bezuidenthustra, don’t you look silly humping your laptop!’ A real riot.

However, this stuff is not funny when I’m in public. I mean, it’s a downer pretty much anywhere, but two places in particular stand out.

  1. Waiting in line pretty much anywhere. Hey, the person ahead of me might be blissfully ignorant of the fact that I’m involuntarily air-humping the shit out of their ass, but all the people behind me are all too aware. And the weirder the looks get, the crazier the Perv Swerve gets. I’d like to disappear. Must put on headphones and play innocent. Must hope ground swallows me now. This is particularly bad when it’s hot out. Sweat and the Perv Swerve go together like beans and cornbread.
  2. Standing on the bus. This is the worst. Why? Kids and old ladies. If they’re sitting nearby, they’re getting a face full of crotch. This is as pervy as the swerve gets. I hate it. It’s also very unflattering when trying to eye-flirt with the cute girl at the back of the bus. Eye contact, smile, thrust balls across the cabin? Yeah, not so hot. There is one bonus, though: if I’m hanging near a vertical support, I’m presented with a fabulous opportunity to show off my unconscious pole-dancing skills. Stripper tics? Only time will tell.

I kid around, but seriously, the Perv Swerve is a pain in the ass. It’s also a pain in the bowels. Those contractions aren’t exactly smooth and measured. I’m going to herniate myself one of these days.

So please, can we cut the dirty dancing to those nights when I’m at least 6 Jose Cuervos deep at a raunchy club? Because there, at least, it’s somewhat appreciated. Or at least acceptable, if still mock-worthy. Maybe I can even start a dance craze. Funky Chicken, meet the Perv Swerve. Step aside. It’s on. Uhhh. Yeahhh. C’mon.

Yeah, right. Unlikely.

Not saying I don’t enjoy humping. I just don’t enjoy this humping.

Thrustingly yours,

  1. Rooks says:

    Louis Jordan shout out? Excellent.

    I’d say TPIWWV, but it seems like the wrong response in this moment, so I’ll instead ask (and forgive me if this is obvious), but why exactly does sweat make Perv Swerving worse? It’s seems like it would be the same, but . . . wetter, is all. Or is that the problem and I’m simply not understanding the extent/severity of the discomfort?

  2. […] If you’re going to make me do this, could you at the very least make me do something elegant? If I need to twitch, I’d prefer to move about gracefully like a lithe gazelle, instead of this drunken spastic giraffe dance I’m performing now. Although I guess it beats the Perv Swerve… […]

  3. […] knowing that the tics are just around the corner. You blackmail me with the possibility of the perv swerve, you […]

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