I was going to write a post today about the night that the song Lady In Red was completely ruined for me.
About how I went to a church dance at the age of 17, expecting to meet young single adults, but instead was asked to dance by a sweaty, balding foreigner who was closer to my dad's age.
I was going to tell you about how he half-sang, half-breathed in my ear throughout the entire song, sweat dripping from his face onto my sweater dress, while I tried to maintain a fair distance from him.
But I'm not going to tell you about that. Why?
My cousin Julie has written such a hilarious (but true!) description of a single adult church dance that it puts mine to shame.
Seriously, you need to go read it.