Weddings, Alcohol, And A Story About Me Dancing (Badly)

I’m good at a lot of things. I take pride in the skills and talents I have. I’m also self-aware enough to know when I’m genuinely bad at something, no matter how hard I try. With that, I’d like to openly admit one of my major shortcomings.

I can’t dance.

I know that’s not the worst shortcoming a man can have, but it’s not just that I’m lacking in talent when it comes to dancing. I’m genuinely bad at it, often to a hilarious degree. Any friend or relative who has been with me to a party will attest to that.

As bad a dancer I am, though, I don’t let that stop me from enjoying a major celebration and making it special. Sometimes, that requires some minor alcohol intake, but that can actually make it even more memorable. I know because I have a personal story that definitively proves that. In the interest of giving everyone something fun and uplifting to read, I’d like to share it.

This story actually took place fairly recently. A close relative of mine was getting married in upstate New York. It made for one of the largest family gatherings we had in years. People I hadn’t seen in a long time had gathered in this beautiful old church that the wedding planners turned into a perfect party venue. It was an amazing setup for a beautiful wedding.

Being a fan of romance, I already have an inherent love of weddings. I’m also a fan of big family gatherings because my family knows how to throw an awesome party. In essence, this wedding had everything necessary to have a good time. I certainly did, as did everyone who attended.

There were so many wonderful moments at this wedding. Granted, most came from the bride and groom, but there were a few others that stood out. I like to think I was one of them and this is where my terrible dancing skills come in.

Now, I need to add a little context here with respect to my dance style. Most of the time, I avoid it because I’d rather not make a fool of myself or anyone nearby. However, this wedding had an ample supply of free beer and beer tends to effect my willingness to make a fool of myself, among other things.

I don’t consider myself a big drinker, but I’m very aware of what I’m like when I get a little tipsy. I’m a very happy, affectionate drunk. I’ll hug random strangers and laugh for no reason. I’ll also start randomly dancing, even when there’s no music. At a wedding where music is constantly playing, I need even less incentive.

I don’t recall having more than two beers before my usual reservations went out the window. After all the romance and festivities from earlier, everyone was in a jovial mood. I certainly shared that mood. The beer was just the catalyst that accelerated the reaction.

As the sun is setting, I make my way to the dance floor. I’m moving and grooving with the grace of a headless chicken, but that doesn’t stop me. I’m having too good a time and I’m too intoxicated to care. I remember more than a few relatives laughing. I’m not sure if they were laughing at my dance skills or if they were drunk too. It was probably a combination of the two.

It all eventually culminated in a moment that I hope the bride and groom remember fondly for years to come. It happened near the end of the reception. The song “Living on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi was playing. For reasons I still don’t understand, my brother and I jump up on an empty table and start dancing to the song.

We dance fairly poorly. We almost fall off a few times, but that doesn’t stop us. Then, people started cheering. That just makes us dance even more.

I’m fairly confident we both made fools of ourselves. I’m just as certain that we didn’t care and neither did anyone else. We had fun. For a brief moment, we were the stars of the post-wedding celebration. My mother still can’t recall that story without laughing and I don’t blame her in the slightest.

It was a brief, but memorable moment from a day that many in my family still cherish. I certainly will. While it didn’t make me a better dancer, it showed that I didn’t have to be in order to make fond memories with the people I love.

During times of crisis, having memories like that are both powerful and therapeutic. If you have some you’d like to share yourself, please do so in the comments.