I don’t embarrass easily, except for the occasional awkward moment that naturally occurs each day. But there was this one time…
I think weddings are a little tricky when it comes to picking a good DJ. Naturally the bride and groom want their guests to have fun and be entertained, but there seem to be two extremes to choose between: classy band-style music with musicians in tuxedoes, or DJs who get the party started with middle-school-graduation-style entertainment, ranging from the YMCA to the infamous Chicken Dance.
Well, two of my friends were getting married on a rainy April evening. It was a beautiful wedding: her dress was sparkly, the ceremony was touching and tearful, and the cake was delicious. But sadly, the thing I remember most about this important day was the crazy-absurd DJ.
Had I been graduating from 8th grade, this guy with his crazy costumes would have been perfect. Sadly, for a candle-lit wedding reception, his entertainment skills were anything but mature, wedding material. He was constantly changing outfits, (no one should see the DJ’s underwear at a wedding…) and he wore an Indian chieftain headdress during a rendition of the YMCA. Fortunately, I opted to stay off the dance floor for most of the night with my friends. But alas, after getting pulled into the long strand of guests as we danced around the ballroom, I found myself on the dance floor with my friends doing the Macarena. As we were finishing our last “seven-maca-eight-maca-nine-macarena,” the DJ asked my friend and me if we wanted to request a song. Word to the wise: if a DJ asks you to request a song, DO IT. Even if your mind is a complete blank and you don’t really care what song is played, think of a response. It will be better than him picking one himself! Due to the slowness of our response, the DJ picked the next song. And believe me, if there were ever a song that should be BANNED from all weddings, “Baby Got Back” is it.
Yes, it’s true…after the last few innocent notes of Macarena floated through the air, my eyes shot open in horror as “I like big butts and I cannot lie” pierced the scene. Not knowing what to do, I decided (like I usually do) to adapt to the situation and act as if this was normal. And I stayed on the dance floor. Half the song went by before I noticed that the large group of Macarena-ers had left the dance floor, and the only people to remain bumping-butts with me were my ex-boyfriend’s mom, his aunt, my pastor’s daughter and her two young children. In panic, I searched the room for my friends, and found them, along with the said-ex-boyfriend, sitting at a table watching the horrific display I was a part of. I can’t remember what I did next, but I was fortunately sane enough to no longer be on the dance floor.
Some may think this is not embarrassing, but let’s see them reenact this scenario and see how they feel. However, one thing I’ve gained from life’s circumstances is that it’s always best to learn from your mistakes. This is what I’ve learned from this unfortunate event: next time my friends leave the dance floor, go with them; and if “Baby Got Back” is played at a wedding reception, cut the power lines.