This is the most likely the final installment of the Shared Wedding series…for now. I need to give their marriage time to bloom some more before I lovingly make fun of it in a satire-esk manor on the interwebs for the whole world to read about. But don’t fret; this series is similar to The Expendables movie series. Similar in the sense that they keep making another, not similar in the sense that there are lots of explosions and old actors. Muscle content is about equal though, thanks to Jared and his groomsmen.
The speeches were finally over. DJ Scottie picked the music tempo up a little and we all danced to the classic wedding songs; Get Low, We Are Family, Cha Cha Slide, Welcome to the Jungle (just kidding, that was vetoed), YMCA, the chicken dance, and finally at the request of my date, the electric slide. They had other songs, but I don’t remember them.
I did not know how to dance to any of those. I had an idea of how to dance to Get Low, but once I started, Bride Shelby pulled me aside and told me that my dance moves weren’t appropriate for her wedding. Killjoy.
I got the hang of the chicken dance pretty quickly, but I’m musically impaired, so I was all kinds of offbeat. And I never figured out if you’re supposed to start off going clockwise or counter-clockwise with the circling part… Maybe I’ll find out at the next wedding. Oh! And maybe they’ll play Apache by the Sugarhill Gang. I can totally dance to that.
I was throwing back glasses of Dr. Pepper during the YMCA song, so I had just enough of a caffeine buzz to not care how poorly I was dancing during the Electric Slide.
Cindy and Jess seemed to know their way around the dance floor well enough, so I tried to stay between the two of them in a feeble attempt to mimic their moves.
It didn’t work.
At one point I almost tripped over a toddler, and on several occasions I bumped into Cindy and Jess, almost causing a domino-effect type fall involving everyone dancing.
Oh! They did do the conga line thing. That was fun! And somewhat dangerous. I was towards the front of the train. It just didn’t end…that was probably the longest song at the wedding. Unless it just seemed like the longest song ever because I felt like I was on a nonstop conveyor belt trolly train conducted by the Greek god, Hades.
My brother, Groom Jared was the conductor. Yes, I really did just compare him to the Greek god of the underworld.
Hey now, it was called for! He just ran so fast with the train and took the strangest paths and did all kinds of crazy. Oh, and I should mention that he’s a complete and utter beast in the gym setting. Which is why I’m going to plug his personal training business here and make a plug for his website.
I completely endorse it, and not just because he’s my brother who recently got married. After having him train me and give me personalized training plans, I’ve gained about 15 pounds of muscle in one month (naturally!…ish. That was sarcasm, the “ish” part).
Ok, my Dave Ramsey-style endorsement is over.
Conga line. I was tired afterward.
DJ Scottie played some slower songs, too, but I only danced during one of them.
The other 2 slow songs were country music.
I refused to dance to the country music ones; partly because I left my cowboy boots and matching hat at home, and partly because country music oftentimes has more vulgar and inappropriate lyrics than most pop/hip-hop/rap music you hear on the radio. Except it’s more acceptable in some circles because it has a fiddle and a mouth harp and not dubstep and autotune.
That’s just a pet peeve though. Three cheers for people with double standards who don’t do their research before deciding to hate something!
I sort of completely totally nailed the slow dance. I mean, seriously, I was pretty much the slow dance grand master champion. If they gave out plaques and participation ribbons at weddings for slow dancing, I would’ve definitely got one.
If you don’t believe me, Zach and Jess can confirm my skillset. It’s not like I bribed them with milkshakes or protein powder to say a pre-written statement regarding my dancing skills or anything. That would be silly and unnecessary.
The rest of the wedding was pretty much visiting and talking with people. It was very extroverted. 2 year-old Toddler Freddy chased a very well-fed female toddler around for a lot of the night…I jumped onto a moving golf cart and shocked my grandparents… I think that was pretty much the only thing else that happened that’s blog-appropriate or pertinent.
Oh! Jared told me that I needed to stay and help clean up, but I got myself out of that one. He said that he and the new wife had to leave and go to bed to be ready and well rested to leave at 1 am (4 hours after the wedding) for the airport. So I said, “Jared, I’m driving you there. I need to be well rested too so I don’t fall asleep behind the wheel while driving and end your beautiful young marriage way too early in a moderately tragic car wreck.”
I went home and slept without having to help clean up.
I was quite proud of myself.
After I got home I went to change clothes, shower, and nap before having to leave again. I almost had to take a pair of scissors to those Batman skivvies to get them off. It was like trying to take off a wetsuit while upside down in the ocean during a gentle storm in waist-deep water with a pair of child safety scissors for hands while having arm dexterity proportionally the same as a t-rex dinosaur. It was difficult, to say the least.
I napped for about two hours, then left to go pick them up.
On the way to the airport I forced the newlyweds to listen to what might just be the best and my favorite brass band ever; none other than, The Soul Rebels. It was magical.
I dropped them off at the gate, Jared gave me a hug (this is only the 3rd recorded time of such an event actually happening), and then they left to do whatever it is newlyweds do at airports on their wedding night at 2:20 am.