The Dance Beat Goes On

At first, we weren’t going to hire a DJ for the wedding. I thought it would be cheap and easy to upload a collection of our favorite songs to an iPod and just let it play throughout the night. But Sebastien said if we did that, nobody would dance. Not necessarily because of our choice of music, but mostly because of that. Also, a DJ can intuit a crowd and knows when to play a particular song based on the mood of the partygoers. And if we stuck with the iPod idea, it meant that one of us would have to man the booth throughout our wedding reception.

So it made sense to get a DJ, although I still feel uneasy about the whole idea. The DJ will probably play the pop or hip hop music night clubbers like to get jiggy with and I can only include so many songs on my do not play list. And there are only so many songs that I can really dance to.

Some years ago I attended a dance club with my cousin. It was one of those booty dancing places that squeezed way too many people on a 12 x 12 dance floor. My cousin knew how these places worked and within a few minutes, she was sandwiched between two guys, girating to the music. It looked easy enough so I joined in. I planted my feet on the ground, hip width apart, stuck out my ass and started to shake my lower extremities. After a few minutes the guy walked away. The next guy kept grabbing at my hips to calm me down, but I kept whacking his hands away. He gave up, too. Things continued like that for a few more minutes then I gave up on dancing and found comfort in quietly judging the club goers. Every time another guy came near me I would give them my famous look of death and walk away. The night was a waste.

That’s not to say that I haven’t had fun at night clubs.

I suppose the most fun I ever had was a place I went to in Chicago for Goth night. All of the patrons wore dark clothes, spiked bracelets and combat boots. We stood around at various corners of the establishment suspiciously eyeing one another and chain smoking. Sometimes I would sway with the music, but that was about it. And that was enough for me.

Somehow, I don’t think that is what’s going to happen at my wedding. I’ll allow the DJ to play the YMCA and the macarena for my Dad’s sake, but I need an evacuation plan in the event that a U2 song accidentally slips into the queue.

So I am preparing a special song list on my iPod. And at some point during the evening I will retreat into the bathroom to sit on the toilet and gently sway to the musical stylings of Metallica, The Cruxshadows and Nine Inch Nails.

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About JadedBride

Amy Kraft is a print and radio journalist based in New York. Her work has appeared in publications including Scientific American, Discover, Popular Science, The Week, Psychology Today, and Distillations, a podcast out of the Chemical Heritage Foundation. She is currently working on a book of humor essays. View all posts by JadedBride

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