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The Nylon Effect

A while back my wife and I went to a wedding. Unlike most men, I was actually looking forward to getting dressed up and having a night out of eating, drinking and dancing with my wife. However, I made up my mind that although I was up for some dancing, the "Macarena," "YMCA," "Hokey Pokey" and especially the "Chicken Dance" would be off my dance card for the evening. I had become convinced that the reason I had taken part in these ridiculous rituals in the past was due to clouded judgment brought on by open-bar alcohol consumption. That being said, I told my wife that she could drink all she wanted and I would drive home, thus eliminating the possibility that I would be too drunk to resist the call of the "Chicken Dance."

Before I knew it, dinner was over and as the DJ cranked up "The Twist", my wife grabbed me by the hand and we were officially twisting the night away. Then something strange started to happen. About halfway through the song I thought I caught a whiff of a funky odor and I began to feel a little light-headed. I felt my forehead and little beads of sweat were starting to form. I took a couple of deep breathes and felt a good enough to finish the dance. I danced a couple more songs before hearing the opening bars of "YMCA" and true to my word, I turned to leave the dance floor. My wife grabbed me by the arm and said, "awe come on." Amazingly, that's all it took to get me flailing my arms in the shapes of the same four letters or the next three minutes. Somehow though, I didn't care, before I knew it the "Macarena," and "Hokey Pokey" were over and I had been out on the floor the whole time and having a great time at that. After the "Hokey Pokey," I stumbled off the dance floor and into the men's room just as I heard the first da-da-da-da-da-da-da of the "Chicken Dance." Still feeling a little out of sorts, I splashed a some water on my face and took a long look in the mirror. I looked horrible. I was as white as a ghost with dark circles under my eyes and was sweating like a pig. Then all of the sudden it hit me, "I'm drunk!"

How in the world did this happen, I hadn't had a drink all night. I started to panic. I left the men's room and went to have a seat at the nearest table. But before I got there, I tripped over my own two feet just like a drunk and landed face first onto a pair of ladies high heel shoes. The stench hit me like a shot of tequila during a hangover. Still reeling and blurry-eyed, I was able to get to me knees and focus on the dance floor. That's when I noticed 150 women dancing in their nylon feet. Then I remembered seeing these women kick off their shoes and run to the dance floor when "The Twist" began. The smell that hit me was nothing more than women's foot odor. Now you know as I do that a woman's feet in nylons after the shoes come off smells exactly like the back end of a rotting rhino carcass. There were 150 rotting rhino carcasses condensed onto this dance floor. I took a deep breath through my nose to confirm that this was indeed the smell that permeated the entire banquet hall. I felt light-headed and then I realized that I wasn't drunk, I was high! And so was everyone else!

I worried for a second that my health might be in danger from these intoxicating fumes, but soon realized that they were probably harmless and just had a silly effect on people, kind of like laughing gas. After seeing how much fun everyone was having in their impaired state, I decided to just go with the flow and jump back on the dance floor just in time for the last few arm flaps of the "Chicken Dance." I was having the time of my life and before I knew it, I was dancing solo in the center of the circle to the rhythm of "Dancing Queen."

Learn more about this author, Daniel Vincent.
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