Hawaiian Church Dance (Take 2)

There were no promises of tacos.  I just thought this picture was hilarious.  Also Dance Moms  is terrible.

I went to another church dance tonight.  Here is why:

1. It was the last dance of the semester and therefore would probably be my last dance in Hawaii.
2. I found the above picture on the internet forever ago and thought it would be perfect for a post about church dances.  Also I knew it would be super lame and I love blogging about super lame things in Hawaii.
3. There would be food.  I tried these little mini pizza things for the first time.  They were kind of delicious, probably because I hadn't eaten dinner before I came.
4. To have a chance to wear out my Boston shirt.  Boston has had a crazy week, and I needed a chance to outwardly express my Beantown Pride.  I even played up the accent a bit, and when this guy told me he was a Yankees fan, I told him that he sucked.

The following are not reasons why I went to the dance tonight:

1. I love dancing to super awesome music.  The music at Hawaiian church dances is abysmal.  They played some of the same songs twice, and it was primarily hip-hop/rap/R&B (except for a painful reggae-fest toward the end because it's Hawaii and of course they're going to have a reggae-fest).  Would it kill them to play something slightly electronic?  I'm not asking for full-on trip-hop, but maybe some soft-core Ellie Goulding or something?  There was also some strange phenomenon that whenever a song that I knew started playing, people stopped dancing.  I then started to play a game that whenever a song I knew (e.g., "Hip Hop Hooray" by Naughty By Nature--released in 1993) started playing, I would look around the room and try to guess who wasn't alive when the song came out.  It was fun and also terribly depressing. 
2. To meet new people (who are men).  You can't meet people at these dances, I've decided.  For one thing, the crazy loud music precludes any possible conversation.  For another, nobody else comes to meet new people because everybody else knows each other.  And as for the "men" part?  This particular dance was a total [Spoiler Alert:  I'm going to use a word that might offend people] sausage-fest, which, at first, one might think is a good thing for a single lady such as myself; however, it's kind of super intimidating to have to dance in front of that many men with so few other ladies.  Despite the overabundance of the Y-chromosomes, there was little-to-no slow dancing, so very little opportunity for one-on-one mingling.  I did give my last name to a guy who intended to find me on Facebook, which, admittedly, is the least committal thing a person could possibly do when initiating some sort of contact, but hey, progress is progress!* 
3. I am a superb dancer.  Thankfully I am a woman and therefore can get away with Dorky Caucasian Dance Moves.  It's quirky and adorable.  If I were a man, I would look like this:

The White Man's Overbite

After the thing was over at freaking Midnight (yes, Midnight!  Longest dance ever!) I rode on a back of a moped a little bit, but then thankfully got a ride back the rest of the way in a car.  And then I continued to stay up super late for no good reason other than to write this post.  Overall, this dance didn't represent the worst night of my life.  I mean, at least I got some free food and a blog post out of it, right?

*I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that this guy was the Yankees fan.  If he ever does find me on Facebook (realistically, he won't), I will barrage his wall with pro-Boston sentiment.