Foggy loved weddings. In fact, love may not have been a strong enough word. Foggy adored weddings more than Christmas, his birthday, and Halloween combined. And they loved him. Everybody told him so. No matter whose wedding it was - his ex-girlfriend's, a childhood acquaintance's, a distant cousin's - Foggy was always the life of the party and a memorable part of everybody's good time. He was a great conversationalist and an even better listener, which meant that he always got to hear the craziest stories about the bride or groom. He could give a toast like nobody's business. And the dancing... well, he had moves. Maybe not the best-looking moves, but certainly the most confident. Whether it was the chicken dance, the Macarena, the dance from the Thriller video, or just that thing where everyone makes a circle around a person and watches them go nuts, Foggy always committed. Once the music started, he didn't stop, and if you wanted to know where he was you only had to look towards the dance floor. You'd be sure to see him with a flower girl standing on his feet or an old lady being charmed in his arms.
Which was why he was so surprised to find that Matt and weddings did not get along.
He'd never been to a wedding with Matt before. He had never thought to take him as his plus one because he'd always had girlfriends willing to go with him and, if he didn't, going solo never bothered him. And none of their college friends had marriage on their mind due to the stress of finishing law school. So he got really excited when he and Matt received matching invitations to Marci's best friend's wedding in Boston. She and Matt had briefly dated, but when things hadn't worked out they had all still stayed close and studied together.
Foggy immediately pulled his out and filled out the RSVP card with a flourish right there in the office, and then turned to Matt. "Oh, man," he said, "she didn't by any chance happen to remember to send yours in braille, did she?"
"No," Matt said, "But it's okay."
"Well I was going to mail mine at lunch. Do you want me to just fill yours out for you and mail it then too?" Foggy asked.
"Sure," said Matt. "Just indicate that I'm not attending, okay?"
"What?" Foggy asked. Then he asked it again just for impact. "Why would you not go to Steph's wedding? You guys were so close!"
Matt sighed and shuffled his feet. "I'm not really a wedding person, Foggy. And most of the time people understand why," he said.
"No," said Foggy. "You're coming. You have to. We've never done a wedding before, and I am awesome at weddings, Matt! I need you to experience me in all my glory!"
Matt sighed, but smiled. "Fine," he finally said. "Put me down for the fish. But I want you to know that you've set the bar for yourself very high now."
"Wedding Foggy will not disappoint, Matt," Foggy told him. "I promise you that you'll have fun."
Keeping that promise turned out to be harder than Foggy expected it to be. When the day of the wedding came, he was his usual outgoing and upbeat self. Matt, however, seemed to have dug his heels in about being miserable.
Throughout the dinner, Matt was polite and friendly, but only the minimum amount he had to be. He looked deeply uncomfortable and awkward around so many people, most of them strangers. When Foggy asked him questions to try and engage him in his conversations, his responses were terse. He didn't even finish his dinner, and Foggy suspected it was because he had some aversion to catered food that he'd never mentioned. Foggy encouraged him to drink to loosen him up, but Matt declined and nursed a glass of water instead.
Worse, when the music began Matt seemed to withdraw into himself even more. Foggy grabbed both of his friend's hands and tried to pull him onto the dance floor with him, but Matt outright refused to move from his seat. It was only when Foggy noticed that he was getting stern looks from fellow wedding guests that he realized how demanding that a blind man join him on a crowded dance floor looked and why everyone else was content to leave Matt alone.
"You go, Foggy," Matt said. "Dance. I'll be fine."
Foggy sighed but knew that Matt would hate him more for not having fun for his sake than for abandoning him, so away he went to join the crowd.
It was hours before he looked over and noticed that Matt appeared to have left the reception hall altogether, and he inwardly cursed himself out for having left him alone.
When he finally found his friend, he was sitting on a bench under a gazebo outside, far from the fun and frivolity of the party happening inside.
"So what's the deal?" Foggy asked, trusting Matt to have heard him approaching and known it was him.
"There's no deal, Foggy," Matt replied.
"There's definitely a deal. What have you got against weddings?" Foggy asked again.
Matt just sighed and lowered his head and Foggy sat down next to him.
"I just..." Matt started to say, but seemed to lose his nerve. "They make me feel..."
"What?" Foggy prompted. "Lonely? They make a lot of people feel that way but you're not the only one here without a date, buddy."
Matt chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Foggy asked.
"It just never even occurs to you, does it?" he asked Foggy. He smiled. Foggy was perplexed. "They make me feel different, Foggy. Left out."
"Oh," Foggy said, realizing what Matt meant. "Why weddings though? There's nothing that visual that you're missing out on, really, believe me."
"It's not just that," Matt said. "Some of it's all the new people. The assumptions that they make about me when they see me, and the wide berth they give me. I know I sometimes make people uncomfortable."
"Well those people are assholes," Foggy said, "and they miss out on getting to know how awesome you are, which is their loss." Matt laughed.
"It's more than that," Matt said. "It's that combined with the parts of the entire thing that I can't participate in. Telling the bride how beautiful she looks and tearing up when she comes down the aisle in her dress. The dancing. The getting drunk."
"Okay, wait..." Foggy said. "Hold up. You can get drunk! You can dance! Why couldn't you?"
"Getting drunk with you at a bar or with friends is one thing, Foggy, but in a strange place with so many people around who don't know me? Where I could embarrass myself or drag everyone down, make them worry?" Matt said. "No. I can't do that."
Foggy sighed, but understood that logic. "But you can dance. You've gotta be able to dance!" he said.
Matt shook his head vehemently. "No, I can't. Really, Foggy, that would embarrass me far more than drinking would, believe me."
"What?" Foggy asked. "You can't embarrass yourself dancing. It's impossible. The whole point of dancing is to not care who's watching and let loose!"
"For you," Matt said. "Not for me. I never learned to dance."
"Learned? What's there to learn? You're telling me you've never danced before? Not even a slow dance?" Foggy asked, incredulous.
"I never had to," Matt told him. "People assumed that I couldn't, I guess. And even if I had tried to, they assumed that I would never have been able to lead and I let them, for obvious reasons."
"But what about school dances? Like your prom?" Foggy asked.
Matt shook his head, and Foggy was filled with sadness at the thought that Matt had never had that, but also anger at the people who never made sure that he did.
He stood up. "Come on," he said, gesturing to Matt with his hand. "I'm making the get up gesture at you," he said offhandedly.
"I know," Matt said. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to teach you to dance," Foggy said.
"What?" Matt said, slowly being pulled up so that he and Foggy were standing face to face. "Foggy, you can't even hear the music out here."
"But you can," Foggy said. "And I'm gonna let you lead anyway. What are they playing?"
"Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion," Matt said.
"Ewwww," said Foggy. "I'm actually glad I don't have to hear that one."
Matt laughed and let Foggy position him so that they were wrapped around one another.
"Okay, so all you have to do here is sort of direct me forward and take a step with me with each beat." Foggy awkwardly directed him what to do.
Soon, they were swaying together in the summer breeze, dancing to music that only one of them could hear.
When the song ended and a faster song came on, Foggy was insistent that Matt continue the dance lesson. As the night wore on, Foggy taught Matt every dance he knew, no matter how ridiculous until finally the two of them collapsed on the grass laughing. Foggy told Matt that he had no reason to be embarrassed. Matt knew he was wrong, but chose not to care. He knew it would never matter to Foggy either way.
FILL: I See, Said the Blind Man (3/6)
Which was why he was so surprised to find that Matt and weddings did not get along.
He'd never been to a wedding with Matt before. He had never thought to take him as his plus one because he'd always had girlfriends willing to go with him and, if he didn't, going solo never bothered him. And none of their college friends had marriage on their mind due to the stress of finishing law school. So he got really excited when he and Matt received matching invitations to Marci's best friend's wedding in Boston. She and Matt had briefly dated, but when things hadn't worked out they had all still stayed close and studied together.
Foggy immediately pulled his out and filled out the RSVP card with a flourish right there in the office, and then turned to Matt. "Oh, man," he said, "she didn't by any chance happen to remember to send yours in braille, did she?"
"No," Matt said, "But it's okay."
"Well I was going to mail mine at lunch. Do you want me to just fill yours out for you and mail it then too?" Foggy asked.
"Sure," said Matt. "Just indicate that I'm not attending, okay?"
"What?" Foggy asked. Then he asked it again just for impact. "Why would you not go to Steph's wedding? You guys were so close!"
Matt sighed and shuffled his feet. "I'm not really a wedding person, Foggy. And most of the time people understand why," he said.
"No," said Foggy. "You're coming. You have to. We've never done a wedding before, and I am awesome at weddings, Matt! I need you to experience me in all my glory!"
Matt sighed, but smiled. "Fine," he finally said. "Put me down for the fish. But I want you to know that you've set the bar for yourself very high now."
"Wedding Foggy will not disappoint, Matt," Foggy told him. "I promise you that you'll have fun."
Keeping that promise turned out to be harder than Foggy expected it to be. When the day of the wedding came, he was his usual outgoing and upbeat self. Matt, however, seemed to have dug his heels in about being miserable.
Throughout the dinner, Matt was polite and friendly, but only the minimum amount he had to be. He looked deeply uncomfortable and awkward around so many people, most of them strangers. When Foggy asked him questions to try and engage him in his conversations, his responses were terse. He didn't even finish his dinner, and Foggy suspected it was because he had some aversion to catered food that he'd never mentioned. Foggy encouraged him to drink to loosen him up, but Matt declined and nursed a glass of water instead.
Worse, when the music began Matt seemed to withdraw into himself even more. Foggy grabbed both of his friend's hands and tried to pull him onto the dance floor with him, but Matt outright refused to move from his seat. It was only when Foggy noticed that he was getting stern looks from fellow wedding guests that he realized how demanding that a blind man join him on a crowded dance floor looked and why everyone else was content to leave Matt alone.
"You go, Foggy," Matt said. "Dance. I'll be fine."
Foggy sighed but knew that Matt would hate him more for not having fun for his sake than for abandoning him, so away he went to join the crowd.
It was hours before he looked over and noticed that Matt appeared to have left the reception hall altogether, and he inwardly cursed himself out for having left him alone.
When he finally found his friend, he was sitting on a bench under a gazebo outside, far from the fun and frivolity of the party happening inside.
"So what's the deal?" Foggy asked, trusting Matt to have heard him approaching and known it was him.
"There's no deal, Foggy," Matt replied.
"There's definitely a deal. What have you got against weddings?" Foggy asked again.
Matt just sighed and lowered his head and Foggy sat down next to him.
"I just..." Matt started to say, but seemed to lose his nerve. "They make me feel..."
"What?" Foggy prompted. "Lonely? They make a lot of people feel that way but you're not the only one here without a date, buddy."
Matt chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Foggy asked.
"It just never even occurs to you, does it?" he asked Foggy. He smiled. Foggy was perplexed. "They make me feel different, Foggy. Left out."
"Oh," Foggy said, realizing what Matt meant. "Why weddings though? There's nothing that visual that you're missing out on, really, believe me."
"It's not just that," Matt said. "Some of it's all the new people. The assumptions that they make about me when they see me, and the wide berth they give me. I know I sometimes make people uncomfortable."
"Well those people are assholes," Foggy said, "and they miss out on getting to know how awesome you are, which is their loss." Matt laughed.
"It's more than that," Matt said. "It's that combined with the parts of the entire thing that I can't participate in. Telling the bride how beautiful she looks and tearing up when she comes down the aisle in her dress. The dancing. The getting drunk."
"Okay, wait..." Foggy said. "Hold up. You can get drunk! You can dance! Why couldn't you?"
"Getting drunk with you at a bar or with friends is one thing, Foggy, but in a strange place with so many people around who don't know me? Where I could embarrass myself or drag everyone down, make them worry?" Matt said. "No. I can't do that."
Foggy sighed, but understood that logic. "But you can dance. You've gotta be able to dance!" he said.
Matt shook his head vehemently. "No, I can't. Really, Foggy, that would embarrass me far more than drinking would, believe me."
"What?" Foggy asked. "You can't embarrass yourself dancing. It's impossible. The whole point of dancing is to not care who's watching and let loose!"
"For you," Matt said. "Not for me. I never learned to dance."
"Learned? What's there to learn? You're telling me you've never danced before? Not even a slow dance?" Foggy asked, incredulous.
"I never had to," Matt told him. "People assumed that I couldn't, I guess. And even if I had tried to, they assumed that I would never have been able to lead and I let them, for obvious reasons."
"But what about school dances? Like your prom?" Foggy asked.
Matt shook his head, and Foggy was filled with sadness at the thought that Matt had never had that, but also anger at the people who never made sure that he did.
He stood up. "Come on," he said, gesturing to Matt with his hand. "I'm making the get up gesture at you," he said offhandedly.
"I know," Matt said. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to teach you to dance," Foggy said.
"What?" Matt said, slowly being pulled up so that he and Foggy were standing face to face. "Foggy, you can't even hear the music out here."
"But you can," Foggy said. "And I'm gonna let you lead anyway. What are they playing?"
"Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion," Matt said.
"Ewwww," said Foggy. "I'm actually glad I don't have to hear that one."
Matt laughed and let Foggy position him so that they were wrapped around one another.
"Okay, so all you have to do here is sort of direct me forward and take a step with me with each beat." Foggy awkwardly directed him what to do.
Soon, they were swaying together in the summer breeze, dancing to music that only one of them could hear.
When the song ended and a faster song came on, Foggy was insistent that Matt continue the dance lesson. As the night wore on, Foggy taught Matt every dance he knew, no matter how ridiculous until finally the two of them collapsed on the grass laughing. Foggy told Matt that he had no reason to be embarrassed. Matt knew he was wrong, but chose not to care. He knew it would never matter to Foggy either way.
In the end, Matt did have a lot of fun.