After the wedding I went to, which used so much incense I thought I was at a Phish concert, we had some down time. I went to a bar with two of the bridesmaids’ husbands. Turns out, they were both motorcycle enthusiasts, which is great because I used to own a motorcycle. Of course, I rode it twice and wrecked it twice. I think my longest run without an accident was 97 feet. I began to drift out of the conversation and flashed back to getting cinders scraped out of my arm in an emergency room with a wire brush. I don’t ride motorcycles anymore.
The reception was a lot of fun. Actually, I didn’t really notice because they had a open bar and family style mashed potatoes. I’m pretty easy to please. At one point, they did the Cleveland Shuffle, which is some kind of localized line dance, much like the Cha Cha Slide, but more depressing because it’s Cleveland. The Cha Cha Slide has more lasting power than any other song, thanks to weddings. Take that, Personal Jesus and Macarena. I personally don’t care what song is playing, I’m not dancing until my combination of beers and shots hits double digits. Then about three or four after that, I’m Michael Flatley. With an untucked shirt. And beer stains on my exposed wife beater. Maybe I should avoid weddings.