Sunday, June 27, 2010

wedding invitations

One of my favorite things about Spring and Summer is the unholy number of wedding invitations that are beating down my door every day upon my return from work. I love seeing the pictures of the happy couples, and I take a special joy in seeing my close friends getting married to women who refused to return my phone calls.

This is, of course, a lie. I don't actually receive wedding invitations anymore, not since Facebook came along to stem the flow. Now I receive invitations to join groups with creative names like, "Jack and Jill are getting married and need your addresses".

For those of you unfamiliar with Facebook1, groups are units you can be shamed into joining in order to publicly showcase your allegiance to a particular cause. They persist forever on your record, and you will feel perma-guilty should you decide to unjoin a group dedicated to so sacred of an event.

Groups also allow aspiring couples who happen to be in league with identity thieves to solicit addresses in the most non-private of spheres, in order to invite you to a wedding, and also broadcast as much personal information about you as possible, so that Mark Q. Zuckerberg can sell it to whoever he sees fit, up to, and including, Kim Jong Il.

I kid, I kid! Though Mr. Zuckerberg wouldn't think twice about selling you out, most of your friends don't actually expect you to post your address anymore. They usually are conscious enough to ask you to send it along privately, in the manner most conducive to you. This is, of course, old news to the majority of the readers who began this post, and immediately broke off, bored comatose.

The best part of these solicitations, however, is how the request is worded. For some reason whose rationale currently escapes me, every single one of these invites contains the qualifying phrase, "if you would like to receive an invitation".

My friends are all obviously kind and gracious people, evidenced primarily by their tolerance of me. In their kind and humble worlds, however, they must not realize that a phrase like that is like oil on water to a hypothetical individual whose level of pride is greater than the GDP of most third world nations.

If I want an invitation? You mean, I have to request an invitation? You weren't going to send me one anyways? Is this your little scheme to keep the number of people down at your reception? Or perhaps save on paper? Am I not worth the extra dollar to send me an invite? It isn't clear to me why I am requested to show my interest in receiving an invitation in order to receive one.2

My cynicism aside, these friends are either a) above and beyond desires for wedding presents, or b) blissfully unaware that sending me a wedding invitation socially obligates me to purchase them a gift.

Just to highlight an extremely hypothetical possibility, which is in no way anywhere near how I act, if one avoids requesting an invitation, one doesn't have to buy a present...

Assuming, however, that one does not follow that path, let us summarize how exactly the steps can play out:

  1. Chris receives group invitation.
  2. Group invitation says to send address "if you would like to receive an invitation".
  3. Chris swallows every ounce of pride he possesses, which causes no small amount of alignment in the planets, and requests an invitation by sending his address.
  4. Sitting on his bag full of money, Mr. Zuckerberg sells out billions of addresses to the highest bidder, then goes for a swim in his gold vault.
  5. Mr. Kim Jong receives address from Mr. Zuckerberg and immediately begins a spam campaign.
  6. Chris receives said wedding invitation, along with declarations of "Death to Capitalism".
  7. Chris is socially obligated to purchase a gift.
  8. Chris enters a feminine-ish store, and immediately loses all of the testosterone-y masculinity he has been building up for a decade (since that time the girl beat him up and he cried).
  9. Chris pays extortionist prices to the one store to offer "free" wrapping (the one whose name rhymes with Wed, Wrath, and Be Conned) for some stupid household appliance that screams, "I'm a weenie! Good job on marrying him not me!"
  10. Chris's gift is received and promptly forgotten by said recipients, except at those moments during their dinner parties that they're telling the puking story, and show off the item that was given by the guy with the perennially upset stomach.3 The lack of a thank-you card is justified during the torrential laughter.

In summary, I love my friends, and I would love to continue to be invited to your weddings/dinner parties/movie nights, so please forgive me for any sort of blatant insulting you have taken away from today's topic.

But don't wait for me to swallow my pride. There's still some left, even after losing my lunch in such a fashion.

It's not you, it's me.

1. It's likely a good portion of you are reading this on Facebook, so this line probably has you confused. I just want to point out is the original site, and is infinitely better in every way than the rubbish you are reading now.
2. On second thought, this pretty much describes my dating strategy. Maybe it's a good idea after all.
3. I was meaning to expound upon that story (ies), but it's still much too embarrassing to recount. Let us take a moment to mourn for the excessive amounts of pride that was lost on that/those occasion(s), and apologize to any offended street sweepers for the mess.

1 comment:

Marie said...

people can be so tacky. i still boycott facebook--never had an account. but i love how people can always be shocked and appalled you don't have one--like our bishop who called blake out in front of the entire elder's quorum--"their contact info's on facebook--you DO have an account, don't you?"