Reminds me of the time I started working in a hospital in Belfast and quickly acquired some new drinking buddies, almost exclusively Catholic. I got invited to a wedding and was worried what to do in the chapel as I am not Catholic and hadn't been in any type of church for quite some time. My friend Jim said not to worry and just to copy him. The big day arrived, after a mega stag night, and we set off in the bus for a good old country wedding, having a few small libations en route.
When we entered the church and took our pews people started moving so I quickly looked round at Jim to see what I should be doing.
It certainly wasn't what he was doing, lying there half blotto, asleep and snoring his bloody head off.