Battle of the wedding dancers
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On those rare occasions where I'm able to pull myself away from my keyboard for a night out, I usually know in advance what I'm looking for and make every effort to find it. I'm talking, specifically, about music, since (cinema trips aside) that's invariably what my nights out involve. For example, if I'm looking for rock music (which is usually the case), I'll go to a venue that caters for that genre. If I was looking to have my ear drums desecrated by the monotonous regularity of a bass drum over the sound of a synthesiser being violated and some random gibbering idiot spouting nonsense, I'd go to a venue that plays dance music. (Strangely, the latter urge has yet to come up, though I've suffered the consequences of friends' urges on a couple of occasions.)
Sometimes, however, nights out are more down to obligation than choice. Occasions such as weddings, for example, usually require your attendance because either you know the bride/groom or because you're filling the 'and guest' quota for somebody who does (and who feels they require backup).
From my experience, your standard wedding reception seems to have a traditional format. It takes the form of a much sought after strategic land mass (the dance floor) and a war between various tribes.
First to strike will be Random Rarely-Seen Uncle, but his early move will cost him dearly. He will try to convince you how "mad" and "wild" he used to be in during his youth, and will attempt to demonstrate this by requesting a song from the late 60s or some time in the 70s and mouthing along with the first line before mumbling away into the background. This will then be replaced by some predictable disco songs from the 70s—probably some Abba or Boney M—requested by a slightly more sensible auntie.
After a while, the younger generation will have consumed enough alcohol to be prepared to take to the dance floor in the front of their parents and relatives that remember them when they were "this high". Expect a mix of songs from the last five or ten years, including a liberal sprinkling of whatever is in the charts at the moment.
After about an hour, the parents and those relatives famous for pointing out how much you've grown will have caught up on the alcohol intake. Initially, they'll join in with the youngsters, using a subtle flanking attack; dancing to the hits of the day, until eventually they have recaptured control of the dance floor. From here on in, it's hits from the 70s and 80s until the end of the night. Mandatory songs on this list include Come on Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners and Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) by Steve Harley and the Cockney Rebel. Expect another Abba medley and probably Agadoo. Nothing will prepare you for what happens during YMCA and you'll spend however long it is until the next wedding trying to recover from the events of Oops Up Side Your Head...
To close, something slow. By now, Random Rarely-Seen Uncle will either be too drunk to stand, or licking his wounds following an unseen battle with Sensible Auntie, so no need to worry about him. The dance floor will be occupied by three main groups: couples that only dance at weddings, couples who only met at weddings and perhaps Random Rarely-Seen Uncle trying to make amends. Don't expect much "dancing" from here on in. The first group couldn't manage it anyway, and in any case some of the participants are likely to have had a little too much to drink and are only vertical because their dance partner is stronger than they are heavy. This should be a largely slow moving affair consisting of vaguely synchronised swaying.
The battle ends in a draw, with all parties abandoning the field. Bonus points are awarded for being able to leave with someone you didn't arrive with.