I have decided dancing at weddings is severely overrated. Let me explain...
In the past, most of the weddings we have gone to were uber-conservative weddings. No dancing, no drinking, etc. And if there was dancing or drinking, we didn't partake. Well, as we are are getting more liberal (aka backslidden) in our old age, these activities are not taboo any longer. Joy and I attended our cousin Derek's wedding with the hopes that we would be able to dance and generally have a good time.

Things didn't exactly start out on the "good time foot" seated at our table were our grandparents, who cannot hear a blessed thing unless you shout, even then they have to loudly repeat it to make sure you got it right. The next couple was our Aunt and Uncle, who are actually rather fun. And the last couple was some old fogey couple who were very annoying. The old lady wanted to see if the roses in the middle of the table were real, so instead of just commenting they were beautiful, etc. She reached forward, pinched them firmly, rubbed a petal between her fingers, and then pronounced them real AND beautiful to the entire table.

Well, since everyone at our table was old, they left rather early, so Joy and I were sitting quietly bored to tears. The only dancing going on at that point was the chicken dance and the hokey pokey, not my idea, or Joy's for that matter, of a good time. Then, our charming uncle decided to find us some amusing company.
Joy's amusing company was a 34 year old real-estate broker who laughed loudly like a horse, wrinkled up his eyes rather oddly, and stared at the rest of the evening. And, might I add, was closer to the side of drunk than sober.
My charming company was a 23 year old who had spent the last nine monthes backpacking in Europe trying to find himself. He believed that most women should not go to college, but stay home and have children. His life plan was to master all there was to know in life (as the priest in the Count of Monte Cristo had done) and then influence the American culture, which sounds fantastic, but there were large ten year gaps that needed to be filled in order to call his plan complete. He loved arguing and I decided to be a good sport and be onery for the sake of a good arguement, and sweetly point out his flawed theology. (One word, Plato. He thinks he was brilliant. I told him he was a sick pervert.)

At this point, Joy and her little real-estate broker guy had decided to liven up the dance floor. Only problem was, real estate guy didn't want to dance, he wanted to watch Joy shake her cute booty. And Joy was not about to start hopping about the dance floor by herself. The DJ realized that no one was dancing to the fast songs, so he was putting on these completely sappy love songs, to which this plato loving guy made me dance. Three dances! Every minute of he enjoyed staring down my cleavage. I was fighting for every bit of dignity I could muster, and when that wasn't working, I was saying the most un-romantic things I could fathom.
Obviously, it worked, because Joy said she looked over and he was practically shaking his finger in my face.

Anyway, we finally made a fast getaway, and laughed long and loud at there expense for the rest of the night. It might not sound amusing, but it was. Maybe you just had to be there.


And as for the boyfriends, I laughed myself to sleep last night as my abstinence promoting sister was making out with her boyfriend in the den until all hours of the morning. She can SAY they weren't making out all of the time, but I can definately say otherwise, because I HEARD it. One word, gross.