I Blogged Myself

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Thursday, July 28, 2005

It's Your Party & I'll Crash It If I Want To

A good friend of mine (let's call him 'Fabian' ... because that's his real name) recently announced his engagement to his diminutive-yet-lovely girlfriend, who I will now have to get used to calling his fiancee.

Wifey and I were delighted with the announcement.

They make a lovely couple, and will greatly enjoy driving each other crazy within the institution of marriage, as will become common practice for them in due course.

But first, they chose to hold an engagement party. Cue the invitations.

* Editor's Note: The following portion of this completely true story contains elements of heartache, pain, tragedy and suffering. Read on for a good laugh. *

Wifey and I were carrying on with our life, blissfully unaware that everyone we knew - everyone - was being invited to the party of the decade. Everyone, that is, except - of course - for us.

A mutual friend asked us if we were going to the party "this Saturday", to which we replied "er, ... you say what, now?" Realising her mistake, our mutual friend called Fabian over, and asked him if Wifey and I were invited to the engagement party. Looking uncomfortably at his feet, Fabian said no. Imagine my heartache! Actually, don't bother imagining it - here's a picture of it:

I couldn't believe it. I felt like he'd just slapped me.

(If I were more of a man, I might have said 'It felt like he'd just punched me', but I'm not, so I'm sorry, but you're going to have to deal with it.)

Wifey was also pretty upset. What had we done wrong, to be blacklisted from the group? I'm a loveable guy; Wifey's a wonderful woman; ... we're fantastic people to have at any party! Why would we not be invited? Fabian's a really close friend! In fact, he was the third of four groomsmen at our wedding!

After spending nearly a week becoming more and more offended as we debated with each other what our supposed sins were to be cut from the list, we came up with a bunch of possible reasons:

1) Numbers were too restrictive, and we didn't make the cut because we weren't family or bridal party members;

2) The bride-to-be doesn't know us as well as Fabian does, and she was already beginning to exert her dominance over him in all decisions;

3) We aren't Carlton supporters (why would you be, the way they're going?!);

4) Another good mate of mine and I labelling Fabian 'gay' whenever we went out as buddies and spoke to chicks throughout our early twenties had come back to haunt me;

5) The congratulations card we sent them a few weeks ago when they first announced their engagement didn't get there, and they were being unreasonably childish about it;

6) The congratulations card we sent them a few weeks ago when they first announced their engagement did get there, and they were being unreasonably childish about the picture of the ball-and-chain on the front, and the written message inside warning him not to go through with it at any cost, do whatever you can to get away, I mean really, think of the children, will somebody please think of the children!?!;

7) We had somehow offended one or both of them at some point that was totally escaping our memories;

43) We can't count;

9) When we had to turn them down for an evening of 'hanging out' together about six months ago, they took it to heart;

10) They never really liked me anyway (cue the song by The Corrs); and

11) Fabian is gay.

It turns out that someone who was meant to pass our invitation on to us, never actually got around to taking it out of her purse. And because the RSVP to the party was 'regrets only', Fabian and his lovely little lady didn't realise that our silence meant we didn't know anything about it. They assumed it meant we were coming. Meanwhile, we got offended that they hadn't invited us. If we hadn't worked this out before the actual day, they in turn would have been offended by us being 'no-shows'. What a tangled web we weave!

But what of Fabian's comment that Wifey and I weren't invited? Well, he was joking, of course. But because we didn't know any better and he was looking uncomfortably at his shoes when he said it, we interpreted it as him feeling awkward about having to admit it to our faces, when in fact it turns out that he was simply trying to pass wind at the time.

'So how did it all come out and get resolved in time?', I hear you scream in pained anguish:

Well, listen carefully.

Another friend of mine, who I shall call Captain Dingbat:

... put his foot in it last night on the phone by saying he was coming down from the country to attend the party on the weekend. He asked if he'd see me there, and I said we weren't invited. He then rang Fabian and said 'Ooopsie - sorry about that!', to which Fabian replied, 'But they are invited!'

Long story short ("too late!"), our forgetful friend heard me say we weren't invited, realised she still had our invite in her purse, and promptly handed it over. Fabian rang me today to check that we knew about the party, and all is well with the world.

Good thing, too. I was planning to crash the party - drunk out of my head and insulting all the guests!

Still, it placed us in the peculiar position of whether or not we speak to Fabian and his chick directly about it, or if we'd be better to let it go. One the one hand, we realised it was most likely that the invitation had somehow gotten lost. But on the other hand, asking if we were invited (or why we weren't invited) would be presumptuous, pig-headed, and likely cause a scene if it turned out that we had been cut for some reason. Plus, if there was a legitimate reason we weren't invited, it'd dredge up stuff I think I'd rather not know about. And it'd spoil the wedding lead-up for the happy couple, having friends causing a problem about not being invited. We didn't want to be that kind of friend to them.

Our only fault is that we cared so much about them, that we didn't want to ask, in case it embarrassed them. That's how much we cared about them! We're actually very good friends, and they'd be crazy not to invite us to any party they ever held, ever.

And then all of us - me, Wifey, Fabian, his fiancee, Captain Dingbat and our forgetful friend - can skip merrily down the lane into the sunset, happy in the knowledge that we're all so ace.

Until they send out their wedding invitations ...



At Wednesday, August 03, 2005 10:39:00 pm, Blogger MelbourneGirl said...

ah weddings, you gotta love the stress and strain of 'em!

"bringing people together"


"alienating everyone and making everyone pissed off, and creating feuds out of thin air"

i hate carlton [too]

At Thursday, August 04, 2005 6:54:00 pm, Blogger Clokeeeey! said...

So Fabian was too cheap to buy a stamp? He deserves all he gets.

Dump HIM, he's a Carlton supporter. I'll lay odds now that Carlton will be mentioned in the speeches at the wedding, therefore not worth going.

At Friday, August 05, 2005 6:01:00 pm, Blogger BEVIS said...

Both good points.

MelbourneGirl: I'm not sure your sentiment would be quite as catchy on a wedding card, but IF I'm invited to Fabian's wedding, I'll give it a go anyway.

Clokeeeey!: Fabian is probably going to wear a Carlton vest or something to his own wedding, so yes - it might be worth missing.

That said, though, Fabian is a good friend with fantastic bone structure and a sensible haircut.

(Yes, I want to go to the wedding regardless!)


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