Our friend Chad doesn't dance. We all know this and accept it, even though dancing is somewhat of a requirement at the Sandbar.
On Chad's birthday, he was at the Sandbar. Dave convinced him to get on the bar for the hurricane (he wouldn't wear the mermaid costume, but just getting him on the bar without too much argument was considered a win).
Even more shocking, considering his disdain for dancing, was the fact that Dave convinced him to stay on the bar during "Car Wash." Sure, he stood there laughing while Dave busted a move, but he was on the bar.
However, Dave was in rare form that night and slightly perturbed that Chad wouldn't even wash the car or spray it down. What happened next is a story we still talk about today.
Dave refused to serve Chad another drink until he moved his arm in the circular "washing" motion. Chad refused. It was a standoff. For several hours.
Chad was thirsty. Dave was stubborn. The blood pressure levels of each were going up.
Eventually, Dave decided that while he didn't want to give in and fill an order placed by Chad himself, he'd make the drink if someone else (meaning me) ordered it. After several hours, Chad had his drink and didn't have to dance for it.
Fast forward to a few months ago. Dave was dancing on the bar (again), doing the Car Wash (again). Chad was standing down in front of the bar, and on this night it was his turn to be sassy. He looked up at Dave, caught his eye and suddenly made the circle motion with his hand.
Dave about fell off the bar.
And now, it's no big deal and we all laugh about it, and Chad does the Car Wash all the time. While wearing rainbow-colored wigs.