Person with ill skillz - reveal thyself!
Don't be modest!
It was me! Or I was the first one, anyway.
I do fucking love to dance, when the music's good and I'm in the right mood. Drugs or at least some booze help, obviously, but funnily enough one of the best times I've had dancing involved none of the former and very little of the latter.
A good friend of mine got married in Amman, Jordan, nine years ago. (It wasn't an arbitrary or dickishly exotic choice of venue; both he and his wife are from that part of the world, and have relatives who either live there or live not too far away.) So I flew over and stayed in his mum's house along with his two brothers. The venue was the penthouse floor of this fairly swank hotel they'd hired, and some of his other relatives, and hers, were staying in the hotel. What was interesting (to me as an outsider to the culture) is that although neither party's family was religious to any great extent, the wedding was officially 'dry' out of respect to the bride's parents, because they were just a bit old-fashioned and didn't hold with that sort of thing.
This set up quite a fun situation whereby some of my mate's cousins, who were staying in a room about halfway up the hotel, had this illicit booze stash which we were constantly sneaking out of the party room in order to top ourselves up from, until it became too obvious what was going on and we had to stop because we were getting the old stink-eye from the father of the bride. But it made trying to get drunk so much more fun than just getting drinks from the bar as usual. Anyway, in the event I didn't get to drink that much, and whatever I had consumed was rapidly burned off on the dancefloor, because the DJ was INCREDIBLE. He was playing all this super high energy Arabic techno, with accompaniment by this incredibly skilled percussionist playing some kind of tall, narrow drum that he was flicking with his fingertips. I couldn't
not dance, and I seemed to be genuinely appreciated by the other guests - I was the only white/Western person there, and maybe they'd assumed I'd be all uptight and boring or something, or unable to dance without loads of booze on hand, or something.
At a couple of points I tried to edge away from the dancefloor just so I could sit down to catch my breath for five minutes and drink some water, but this tiny woman in a headscarf, about my mum's age, just grabbed me by the sleeve and dragged me back to the floor.
Another notable thing was that, in contrast to every other wedding I've been to, there was dancing and
then food, which is so much more logical, don't you think?