So, evidently, I dance. I went to a wedding lat night, and was continually against dancing. It wasn't my style, my feet hurt, blah blah blah. I had a thousand reasons to say no, and only one reason to say yes. The problem was, I didn't count on just how compelling that one reason would be: alcohol.
There was an open bar, as is traditional, or so I've been told. So, as the evening wore on, I went through three whiskey sours. That's not actually that much, especially spread out over an entire quite long evening, however, I wasn't eating, and I could swear in court that the last two weren't so much "whiskey sours" as they were "whiskey whiskeys."
On the up side, I loosened up considerably. This led to me being downright unable to tear myself away from the dance floor. I discovered a heretofore unknown talent for slow dancing. I discoed, rather successfully in my opinion, and to top it all off, I did the twist and the Carlton to almost every song with the appropriate beat.
The downside is that while under the influence of alcohol, I forgot that I was wearing size 11 shoes, and I am a 13 1/2 wide. As a result, I am now hobbled. My feet are barely usable. Still, it was worth it. I look snazzy in a suit.
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