Celia Rivenbark - The Height of Rudeness: Four Sneak Peek Essays Plus One Exclusive!

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Contents

The Height of Rudeness

Theres been a lot of talk lately about a rather rude trend that has surfaced in the bridal world. I speak, of course, of the hideous Please DONT save the date announcements. These wretched reminders are sent to people who have reason to believe they might be invited to the wedding but, in truth, will not be. The intent is to prevent misunderstandings and avoid hurt feelings close to the wedding date.

Yes, its so much better to hurt feelings much earlier, I suppose.

Granted, the overwhelming majority of these noxious notices are sent via e-mail, which is only slightly less icky, but I have seen at least one flower-ringed paper proclamation reading DONT Save the Date crafted especially for snail mail. Ugh.

We know that some of you still cant quite believe that you have received a reminder NOT to save the date. You quite naturally assumed youd be spending the second Saturday in September in a lovely vineyard where your fifth best friend is having an outdoor destination wedding but, instead, you will be at Costco, moping even as you get a great buy on a freakishly large rotisserie chicken. (Given this terrible snub, you are allowed to sit in your car in the parking lot and eat it, barehanded, all by yourself, wiping hands on pants as needed. We know you wore the elastic-waist ones for that very reason, and we applaud your foresight.)

Ive been hearing about this loathsome etiquette violation for a while but only recently discovered how it got started. In a way, it was inevitable. Turns out, people who are Facebook friends expect to be invited to weddings of their Facebook friends. Not all of them, of course, but enough of them to create a genuine dilemma for a bride-to-be. As if she didnt already have enough on her plate. Actually its really your fault for assuming.

This makes for an awk situation for the bride when the photo she giddily posted and tagged Here it is! The Big Rock! back in December (we noticed that she got her nails shellacked before she posted, by the way and, hey, she is so FAKE) generates a huge FB response of earnest exclamations of delight: So happy for you guys! Shopping for my dress! This is going to be fabulous! and I cant wait!

But you will wait. For a very long time. Face it, remote Facebook friend from college/high school/summer camp Youve got about the same chance of getting invited to that wedding as Dr. Drews clients have of not killing themselves someday. Oh, Im sorry. Too soon?

We blame Facebook for confusing friends with sorta friends.

And Twitter. And Instagram. And even, bless its heart, Pinterest. You put your little Pinterest out there for everyone to see, pinning pictures of the flowers you picked for the wedding (peonies rock!!!), the limo you plan to rent (neon roof!!!!), even a mini brochure of the villa in St. Johns where you will spend your honeymoon. Oh, how you have shared and shared and shared.

Naturally, we are caught up in all the wedding excitement, imagining our role as loving witness to your special day. Perhaps well be a reader (where did we put that Rumi poem?) or tend the guest register. In fact, we have already mentally checked surf & turf on the little response card that you will surely include in our invitation. We are sure that you, being the stickler for detail that you are, will provide a vegan option just in case but, really, surf & turf will do nicely. We can practically taste those pan-buttered shrimp even now. Hope its prime rib. Not really a sirloin fan.

Yes, we have even allowed ourselves to dream about who exactly will be our Plus 1. Thats what its called now. Nobody says guest or date. Its always Plus One. I rather like Plus One because its a very nice way of saying: We know youre going to act like fifty shades of ass clown if you dont get to invite that loser bass player that you met at Cracker Barrel over hangover food one night and, really, we dont care; we just want to make sure he gets a plate of food and his very own party favors, which, we think, will be tiny bottles filled with sand from St. Johns so it will be like yall are sorta with us.

See how nice Plus One sounds? It doesnt assume sexual orientation or any of that foolishness. Plus One calls to mind how Bradley Cooper always invites his mama to the Academy Awards with him instead of whatever ripped starlet hes diddling. His mama is ALWAYS his Plus One, and not in a creepy Norman Bates kind of way.

But back to the notion of a Please DONT save the date card.

Let me be blunt: You shouldnt assume that just because youre Facebook friends you are invited to the wedding. To do so is, frankly, a tad delusional, really. If I follow Jon Hamm on Twitter that doesnt mean that I expect to be the next Mrs. Don Draper, who will fix a mean martini and rub his temples and purr into his ear about how hard it must be to be such a tortured, brilliant man when really hes just a self-absorbed, misogynistic pussy hound who

Wait. Where was I? Yes, confusing the real world with a made-up one. Rather like you are doing, when you assume a friendship and closeness that doesnt really exist. See how easy?

So heres the deal: Youre not allowed to assume that youre invited to anyones wedding, no matter how many times you liked their photos or posts, even the mundane ones about how theyre heading out for a run! YOLO!

Yes, YOLO indeed. This is teenspeak for you only live once. So resolve to not let your very self-worth be dictated by a card that either invites or disinvites you to some silly wedding.

And if you do receive the ghastly Please DONT save the date card, accept it gracefully.

Face it: You didnt make it. It could be worse. You could be that poor soul who, every so often, wagers poorly and ends up not being able to play in the final round on Jeopardy! because shes in negative numbers. The very sight of that darkened lectern always makes me irrationally sad. Thank goodness for the lovely parting gifts.

But I digress. In all fairness, if you look at this from the bride-to-bes position, you could, if youre feeling generous, understand how she is dismayed that anyone would assume they were invited to her wedding just because theyre social media friends. Why, she wonders, do these people act as if they need to make plane reservations or hire babysitters? Why are they private messaging her every day asking things like: Is there a block of rooms at the Holiday Inn - Exit 58 for your wedding party and, if so, is it more than $100 because, if it is, I might have to sell some more plasma?

And then, the sickening truth hits her when she looks in the mirror one morning: Its all her fault. Isnt she the one who hasnt shut up about her wedding for the last year and a half?

Just this morning, she Tweeted, Picking out the grooms cake today!!!!!

A few hours later, giddy with her cake selection, she whipped out her smartphone and posted a photo worthy of the cover of Bon Apptit depicting an eighteen-layer chocolate cake accompanied by this caption: Here it is! Everybody say YUM!

This generated a bunch of responses such as Cant wait to share your special day! No. Thats wrong. Its Facebook, after all, so it was Cant wait to share your special day!!!!!!!!! Everything is just so much peppier and more joyful on Facebook. Yes, it is!!!!!