Better Offer?

The things I do – whilst waiting for a better offer!

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“Coconut Shy? Never!”

With the wedding ceremony over and the formal reception done and dusted, it was time for the entire wedding party to let their hair down (assuming they had any!) and party!

And certain members of the wedding party needed no second invitation to do just that.

Most of the men, Groom and Best Man excepted, shed their tail coats and loosened their cravats.  These cravats were either neatly folded (I know, doesn’t sound plausible in a sentence about men!) or were left draped round the neck like the bow tie of a swing singer towards the end of an evening.

The women on the other, hand had less to discard, but it didn’t stop them.  Their foot wear was cast aside unceremoniously in a fashion no shoe deserves (Sarah Jessica Parker would have had a heart attack had she been invited.)  Their owners left to parade around all evening like Sandie Shaw

So with feet made more comfortable, all the women needed now was some music to which they could dance.  And it wasn’t long before the DJ obliged.  Both the hen and stag parties had their own theme tune, and it was the hen’s whose came first.

The bride likes (she hates that word) no loves no adores Dolly Parton and the moment the intro started, there was a rush, no a stampede, to the dance floor.  It was as though someone (maybe SJP) had placed a whole load of new shoes on the middle of the dance floor and announced there was a sale about to start.  These women needed to get there first before the best pair had gone.  This could explain why the wedding shoes had been so poorly treated earlier.

The men, on the other hand, were more reluctant to fill the dance floor when their theme tune was played.  And their song was played more often than Dolly!  One or two of the men were dragged to the floor kicking and screaming at the very intro of “We No Speak Americano” while the rest of us were just left screaming for it to be turned off!

One pair of shoes which never left the feet of their owner was set to spend the evening transporting the owner between the bar and the dance floor.  These shoes were pretty stylish.  The colour was fairly unusual, however, they set off the outfit perfectly and were much admired by all onlookers.  So much so that the owner was considering splashing out on another pair in a different colour.

The shoes in question belonged to Chef.  They looked far too big for him such was the point at the toes.  There must have been two inches between the end of his big toe and the point of the shoe.  They looked like they would fit me – my feet are at least three sizes bigger than Chef’s – but only if I had all but my big toe amputated!  Still, Chef was so pleased with them, that he ensured they spent as long as possible being visible to the entire gathered throng.

Back to the shoeless women.  What many of them failed to realise was that their feet were acting like mops on a dirty floor.  As the reception progressed the evening sky got darker, as did their feet.  The floor had been treated to morsels of food dropped throughout the earlier formal reception and the odd spillage of drink.  Also it had been a damp day and people had walked grime in off the streets, so by the end of the evening the ladies feet were blacker than the stormy night sky.

The bride, Coconut, however, unperturbed by the colour of her feet, made the dance floor her own.  There’s nothing she likes more of an evening when at home than to start up the Sing Star, stand in front of her television and pretend she is a singer.  I’m not saying “pretend she is a singer” in a derogatory way – she can sing.  When it comes to the dance floor, most of us, shy reserved types, prefer a reasonably full dance floor; enough people to hide ourselves away whilst we move from side to side in time to the music.  Although it was fairly evident that certain members of the assembled gathering struggled to even sway in time to the music!  And we certainly wouldn’t be facing the rest of the room where we would be able to catch the eyes of those who were sitting this one out watching, with amusement, our dance moves.

Shy is a term usually associated with coconut – however, not this Coconut!  She took up her position right at the dance floor’s edge and proceeded to give us all a floor show; no matter how many or few people were up there with her.

She wasn’t worried about the pool of drink she was dancing in – making her feet look like Islands In The Stream!   😉

If Dolly can do it, she can do it.  This was after all her day.