A sharp, quick jerk to the left and then another three feet to the right characterize the basic movement of the sole ranger in the middle of the dance floor at ‘Il Piquero’ restaurant and bar in Urbino, Italy.

His fingers repel each other so that they are spread like a Spanish fan with his thumbs in the air and his baby fingers touching his palm. One arm salutes the ceiling and the other gestures at the ground. The sharp edges and corners of his body veer in many different directions.

The juxtaposition of his arms, hands, legs, torso and feet is insanely complex and one may not be able to fathom a bodily contortion such as his when he dances. His hips move to the bass but his head moves to the melody.

My friends and I stand in awe—and amusement –as we observe the five feet tall, 38 year old man as he holds true to the motto ‘dance like no one is watching.’

“I am the best dancer in Italy,” he proudly assures me as he leans on the bar, getting frightfully close to me. “Everyone knows that I am the best.”

For the next five minutes of my life I heard the flaccid skinned but energetic performer repeatedly praise himself. The monotonous words of strained English that dissipated from his near unperceivable lips were both incredulous and terrifying.

If he is the best dancer in Italy, I’m not sure I want to see anyone else dance. Well, that’s not my kind of dancing except when I’m purposefully being awkward to satisfy my clown-like disposition. But it is hilarious to watch and after five minutes of trying to comprehend whether he was dancing or having a muscular spasm, the dance floor was packed with people.

He is a good man though. He invited me to his birthday party on the 29^th of June. Who would not want to go to the best dancer in Italy’s birthday party?

I don’t think I would want to date anyone that dances like that but I definitely had great fun dancing with him.