This weekend I attended a beautiful wedding solo. A girlfriend was getting married and a bunch of us gals decided to leave the men at home. (Sidebar: Men were extremely grateful.)

This was my first dateless wedding. And I was excited to celebrate with my besties. As we counted down to our friend’s big day, she gave us a warning: watch out for The Creepers. Well, she didn’t call them creepers, but that’s what I’ve named them.

Fast-forward to the wedding. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t help but notice a row of men scouting out the ceremony. It was almost humorous. Almost pathetic. But hey, they’re young. And single.

So off to the reception we go. Beer was flowing like wine. The band was rocking. The gals and I took to the dance floor in a seizure-like fashion. We were having a blast.

Cue the first slow song of the night. None of us wanted to leave the dance floor. So, in our inebriated state, two of us partnered up and started slow dancing away.

The next series of events happened in slow motion. Looking back on it, I felt like a baby seal on the surface. I could see them circle us quickly and quietly, before moving in for the kill. It was the most dreaded things on the dance floor: The Creepers. Not long after my hands locked with my pal’s, we were being torn away from each other. The two men swooped in, each ripping us to opposite sides of the dance floor.

Struggling only made it worse.

We powered through it, each of us mentioning our significant others, looking for an out.

They didn’t care.

They spun us, dipped us and tried to dance prom-style. (Both hands around our waists. No thank you.) My pals partner was even making kissy faces. He thought they were sexy. She thought he had eaten a lemon. When questioned on the faces, he replied, “I’m spicing things up.”

You had to give them props for being so bold. These were two guys who probably studied the movie, The Wedding Crashers, in depth. They tuned in every night to Shark Week.

But unlike the movie or the Great Whites, these guys when home alone and hungry. (Well technically they had each other.)

Better luck next time, Creepers.