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11/26/2007

SANCTITY: Edition #1

by Jeremy Hooper

And now for a new feature here at G-A-Y. One we like to call:

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Our first distinguished honoree is a certain female we all know and love. Usually 20 or 30ish. Single. Sometimes a bridesmaid or a sister; other times just a friend or a co-worker. Present at just about any modern wedding reception wherein booze and lip-syncing to "I Will Survive" are up for grabs. Always ready and willing to eschew shoes in the name of good times. We're of course talking about:

The tootsie showers: those single gals at the reception...
Baregirl
...whose shoes are simply too constrictive to allow for a good time.

Their patterns are familiar. They make their way to the dance floor during the first couple of songs, fully shoed and fully self-aware. At first they are a bit timid in their movements, just swaying mildly to the pop classics that are blaring from the speakers while they simultaneously carry on casual conversations with the fellow members of their tribe. They want you to know that they are here to have a good time, yet they are not yet feeling festive enough to lower either their height or their inhibitions.

After an hour and a few Wedding-tinis, these gals drop their reticence just enough to eye-flirt with the groomsman they've had their sights on since the rehearsal dinner. They're still not ready to marry naked sole to makeshift wood floor at this point. They are, however, fully ready to bare a little of their soul to let the aforementioned groomsman so as to let him know that yes, he does in fact have a chance at getting into Room #69 tonight.

Two hours and many glasses of wine later, these gals have started to feel an itch in their lower half (but a good itch; not like that one that led them to take antibiotics and drink cranberry juice for a week). It usually comes during an uptempo number from the likes of Shakira or perhaps Beyonce. They've already committed by this point to the letting-it-all-go practice of throwing their hands up in the air like they just don't care, but they want to take the revelry a step further. They want Mr. Grooosman and everyone else at the party to know that they're not single because they are sticks in the mud who won't take chances. No, no -- they want this wedding video to remember them for all of perpetuity as the single-by-choice gal about town who brought a dose of life into the night. So they look down at the heels that they strategically chose so that they would be an inch taller than the bride. And with one quick flick of a foot, they free their dogs of that which has been enslaving their enjoyment for the duration of the evening.

And just like that, they are free. Free to join the conga line without fear that they'll fall during the "Hey!" portion of the "Duh-duh Duh-duh Duh-duh, DUH!" rhythm. Free to make the statement that even though they RSVPed to a black tie affair, they never agreed to any restrictions regarding footwear. Free to show the bride that while her hair and makeup may be fabulous, her pedicure comes nowhere close to that which is attached to their own foot. Free to LIVE.

Yes, the single barefoot girls who kick off their shoes -- just one more modern heterosexual wedding staple that is still being protected from the attacks being lodged by those pesky gays. And our first inductee into the archives of SANCTITY.

Look for future honorees wherever sarcastic takes on the "culture war" are sold (i.e. right here at Good As You).

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