Open Mouth, Insert Orange Shoe

Before I write a beautiful and poetic blog post and show you gorgeous pictures of my friend Jen’s wedding, I need to de-brief you on the moment where I offended someone at the reception.

Offending people is one of those things that happens in social contexts.  Especially if your name is Piper.

I just can’t help it.  It seems if there are eight or more people gathered together, this chip in my brain clicks on and shouts SAY SOMETHING PROVOCATIVE.  There are usually cocktails involved in these scenarios.  I will blurt out AT LEAST one thing someone will not like or something that’s just a little…inappropriate.  Like the time my friend was showing me her very nice boob job and the words YOU NEED TO PLUCK THOSE HAIRS GROWING FROM YOUR NIPPLES just fell out of my mouth like horrible little turds.

WTF??

What is wrong with me??  It’s a wonder I have friends.  I am grateful for them.  I pray hope for their patience and understanding every day of my life.

I promise I’m not missing a sensitivity chip.  I’M VERY SENSITIVE, OK.   See how I’m not writing about my social gaffe in the same post in which I will write about Jen’s beautiful rehearsal dinner, vows, and dress?  Because I am thinking of her feelings??  This makes sense to me.

See this lady above?  This young  demure  fun-loving lady styled so nicely by Camilla Combs and shoes so graciously provided by Cheekymuffy?  This is her before the reception.  Before five gin and sodas and before someone started screwing with the dance tunes.

Here’s how it went down.

Jen’s wedding reception is a blast.  The food is great, the surroundings lovely, and everyone is having a smash-up time.  Love is in the air.  We all start dancing to a very nice playlist someone had created for the event.  Believe me, even though there was no DJ, the sound system these people had at their home was awesome.  We were getting our groove on.

It’s getting later in the night, but we’re all still dancing and this person shows up.  This person who is wearing a cardigan and who takes it upon herself to constantly switch songs RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of the album and move to a song that SHE wants to hear.

Which is a total buzzkill and encourages most people to exodus the dance floor.

So then when I sit back down at a table with my girlfriends and my gin and soda, I notice this woman is picking songs on the iPod which she wants to karaoke sing with her husband.  As well as songs that she wants to dance to, like “What a Feeling” by Irene Cara and lots and lots of Abba.  Pretty much any song that dates before 1985.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ll shake my ass to some Chaka Khan or even “The Eye of the Tiger“, but let’s HAVE A LITTLE VARIETY.  Right?

Friends, I TRIED.  I tried to ignore the constant switching of the songs and the two-person karaoke show going on, but when she shut off ANOTHER song right in the middle of me and my friend Jaada grooving to it and then turned and smirked at the lovely Jaada and told her she “won” a non-existent dance contest, that’s when Piper was DONE.

BECAUSE I DON’T FREAKING LOSE DANCE CONTESTS.

So then I walk off the dance floor with Jaada and we meet up with the bride on the sidelines and I ask her in a low voice,

“Who is that music nazi?”

I think Jen could tell I was pretty peeved because she sort of sympathetically smiled at me, perhaps hoping to calm me down, and told me she’d tell me later.  Then I hissed rather loudly,

“I HATE THAT FUCKING BITCH!”

This is where the very sweet and nice wife of an important person (she unfortunately happened to be standing on the other side of me) turns around with a not-so-happy look on her face and says,

“That’s my sister in law.”

Well.

So I would like for you to imagine now what Piper did next, and then I will tell you what she really did, which was turn and look at that sweet woman and bark,

“SORRY.”

And then she walked off to fetch her gin and soda.

And so did the bride.

And the moral of the story is:  If someone wants you to be the DJ at their wedding reception, THEY WILL FUCKING PAY YOU.