Ah, weddings. I didn’t like them in the before times, but strangely enough, I found myself missing them with the onset of the pandemic. Despite the expense, the questionable food, and the obligatory fat checks, it’s good to know that love is still alive and well.
Not to mention revelry! Look at all the guests tearing it up on the dance floor. Watching them is infectious, even for a wallflower like me. I think I will set my drink aside and go on out– Wait. I know this song. It’s “Jump In The Line!” Why are you all crowding behind…?
OH, SWEET JESUS, NO!
I’m at the front of the conga line?! ME?! Do I look like the life of the party? I’m the one guest who came here stag! It took me a solid ninety minutes to work up the nerve to even step out onto the floor! Don’t get me wrong, I love a good party as much as the next person! And by the look of things, the person after that, and after that, and after that, and– This is getting out of control! How many more exclamations and interrobangs is it going to take to convince you of this?!
Okay, take a breath! Keep it together. Thank you all for your vote of confidence in my leadership. But what makes you think I’m qualified to steer this thing in the right direction? I mean that literally since it looks like WE’RE GOING TO RUN INTO THE WALL!
Man, this is stressful.
Oh, hello there. Thanks for putting that decorative fruit bowl on my head. Really. I needed an obstruction of my peripheral vision as I try to navigate this chaotic morass of humanity.
NINETY-YEAR-OLD GRANDMOTHER AT TWELVE O’CLOCK!!
We’re literally dancing on the edge of disaster! Do you want the figurative blood of the bride’s grandmother on all our hands? I’ve read Macbeth and I’m sure your answer should be no! That play didn’t end well for any of the central characters. “Out, out, damned spot, I say–” Oh shit, no time for Shakespeare WE’RE GOING TO COLLIDE WITH THE DJ BOOTH!!
This is why I haven’t driven in ten years! I live in a city with a readily accessible mass transit system. This is bringing up all my anxiety about that time I hit a parked car when I was sixteen. I’m SO glad that my father, who was in the passenger seat screaming for me to slow down, isn’t here to see me now to repeat the sorry missteps of my youth. I must be such a disappoint–
WE’RE ABOUT TO RUN DOWN THE FLOWER GIRL!!
She got out of the way. Okay then. Maybe I underestimated the self-preservation instincts of these guests. Or their ability to avoid bodily harm simply by moving four feet in any given direction. Look, forget everything I said (not aloud, of course) over these arduous, uncertain, and deeply troubling three minutes and forty-one seconds. I think this has been a successful exercise in teamwork among strangers. In fact, I–
Oh. The song’s over. Now you’re uniformly moving away from me toward the center of the floor. Well, I’ll just stand here idly while “Cupid Shuffle” dictates your attention and summarily removes me from any position of importance. Works. Honestly.
Where was I before all this? That’s right. Leaning against the wall and waxing philosophical. I’ll have another drink and contemplate slipping out. I’ll make my way back to the undersized studio apartment where I live. Alone and existing in a vacuum for almost two years now. Maybe. Give me another three hours to make up my mind, or at least until “Macarena” queues up.