Wedding Reception Dancing

Wedding Reception Dancing

It's the single most terrifying thing a parent can hear: "Mommy mommy! Heeeelp! Daddy's doing the Macarena!!"
That's right, couch potatoes. it's wedding time. Time to slip on those comfy dance shoes and slip off those itchy inhibitions. Jane Goodall might think she broke new ground in mammalian research, but she never crashed a wedding reception in the third quarter of an open bar. So a Tanzanian chimp can sign "I love you"? Big whoop. If you want to see the best that humanity has to offer, look no further than a Minwaxed parquet floor and a thumping remix of Kool & the Gang;s "Celebration."

Ever since early man learned to beat a stick on a rock, some guy has embarrassed his family by dancing to it. The primordial urge to shake your booty can be traced back thousands of years, when cave dwellers learned to ward off strangers by loudly grunting and jumping around like maniacs. Luckily, not much has changed.
Few theorems apply universally across our species. One of them is this: If you can dance, you know it. If you can't, you definitely don't.

The after-vows hoedown is often a hotbed of rhythm-based research and enlightenment. Even though the behavioral microscope is flipped up that night, someone is still taking lab notes. In the petri dish of wedding receptions, you have to ask yourself one question: "Am I going to be a productive ribosome in this glorious mass cell fission, or a sloshy paramecium who accidentally self-replicates and spills mitochondria all over his host?"

The good and bad news is that a nuptial bash is the only secure place for your Tony Manero fetish. A wedding reception is a unique occurrence, in that it allows people to freely express themselves, while providing a safety net for their sweaty gyrating ego. Guests feel a natural camaraderie with each other. Family and friends would rather celebrate your dance form than scorn it; at least until you're out of earshot. But don't be fooled: Whip out your Sexyback version of the Ukranian Hopak dance at your local nightclub, and you?ll see how quickly you're rewarded with eternally-mandated abstinence.

So if you like to swing those hips and are tired of running up against public indecency laws, attend a wedding. Chances are, you'll be in very good company. And for once you may not even be the one everyone whispers about.

See that guy in the corner downing a pitcher of mai tais while covertly checking the tensile strength on his cummerbund? He's a Dance Nazi. In two minutes, he's going to be doing a scissors-split over the bride's head while ripping a serious Michael Flatley through a circle of mildly frightened gawkers. These dudes live by the knowledge that they could rule the world if only our social strata was ordained by who can "bring it" on the dance floor.

"There is often a guy with incredible athleticism, who waits for a Michael Jackson [song] before breaking out the worm, or a head spin, or maybe the splits," offers Colorado WPJA member Adam Welch. "I've seen Russian dancing, flips; all sorts of moves you know take a lot of practice. Then, of course, they always act like they just thought of it."

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