Dick/Tim: Near the cake and the bar. Obviously.
Dick had found a prime location, he was equal distances between cake and wine. It was like this spot had been carved out specifically for him. He was able to keep an eye on the cake, and also haggle with the bartender. "Come on," he said nodding toward the paltry four ounce pour of red wine into his glass. The bartender poured two more ounces and Dick looked around. "Am I going crazy? There are like four more inches of prime glass real estate in there. I'm pretty sure my sister and brother in law didn't explicitly tell you to be cheap with the pouring. If they did just put it on my tab." He was being good natured, and smiling, and the bartender was amused and rolled his eyes before filling Dick's glass up properly.
So in a sea of moderately poured glasses of red wine, Dick's cup runneth over. Literally. So he drank it down a bit ignoring the initial bite and reveling in the resulting warmth. It was good to be up and around. He dropped a twenty dollar bill in the tip jar on the bar and said he'd be back and went back to his spot near the cake.
When he'd arrived he'd had to play it a little more crippled. He'd have to in the public eye for a while yet, he was ready for it, but here he was assured was secure so he wasn't even showing pretense of what his body had just been through. He was enjoying his overfull glass of wine and eyeballing the slices of cake being handed out - he had a very important purpose at this wedding and this seemed to be it. He ignored basically everything else, because he was going to have to get much drunker before he was inspired to make the scene they were all trying not to make at this event.