The invitation said dress-casual, so you figured you could get away with wearing your navy shorts with your blazer and tie instead of the usually requisite slacks.
In the warm Louisiana night air, your legs feel well-aired and dry in the cool breeze. The fools around you seems a tad miserable; their khakis and dress pants sticking to their skin, wet with sweat.
The AC/DC jokes are getting a bit old, though.