We said one shot-ski. The photo album suggests we cannot count.
There is a point when guests stop watching the dance floor and become it. These are stories about the music, timing, and people that get a room there.
If the dance floor kept a diary...
Imagine the diary entries three weeks later. Nobody is writing about the chair covers; the group chat is still losing it over moments like these.
Grandma knew every Macarena move. Grandpa invented six more and now refuses to teach them to us.
Took off my silent-disco headphones. Same song for everyone. Forty people singing it in forty different keys. Incredible.
Patrick waved everyone in during our last formal dance. My uncle got there first and nearly took out the cake.
My cousin attempted the worm in a three-piece suit. The worm won.
Dad danced across the dinner table like he had been booked as entertainment. Mum did not even look up.
They lifted us up on chairs. I held on like it was a roller coaster with no seat belt.
Best man mentioned the groom’s old drag act. Groom yelled, ‘I was better than you!’ The aunties demanded proof.
Lost a shoe before midnight. Found it by the photo booth the next morning. No idea who has the other one.
Rain wrecked the family photos. We came inside looking like wet dogs and somehow led the dancing.
We said ‘one more song’ four times. Even the shuttle driver started singing along.
Auntie asked for one ABBA song. Forty-five minutes later she was still in the middle, shoes in one hand.
The bouquet missed every hand and landed in dessert. Nobody volunteered to catch it a second time.
My brother split his trousers doing a squat. Finished the song with his jacket tied around his waist.
Someone passed the guestbook around mid-dance. It came back with a drawing of the DJ and PLEASE PLAY ONE MORE.
The best man tried to crowd-surf. The crowd carried him four feet and set him down by the bar.
Grandad asked for one slow song. Five minutes later he was leading a conga line. No one knows what happened in between.
We found confetti in our suitcase in Mexico. Apparently the dance floor came on the honeymoon.
Three rooms. Three different energies.
Above the town, the room changes gear.
A wedding up at the Sea to Sky Gondola already has the view. Here is what happens when the party earns its place beside it.
Enter this story
Sunwolf has the river. We bring the party.
A relaxed wedding by the river is lovely. When it is time to dance, I still want the whole room in it.
Enter this story
The last formal dance. The first packed floor.
Patrick invites everyone into the final formal dance, so the party begins with the whole room already there.
Enter this storyFrom the booth, for real.
A quick look at Patrick working the room. No staged gear shot.