A few weeks ago I heard some co-workers talking about the surprise wedding shower they were throwing for another co-worker. I thought, “That’s okay, I don’t really know [co-worker, who is the groom-to-be], but still they shouldn’t be talking in front of me about a party I wasn’t invited to.” I wrote it off to their youth and lack of experience with exclusive invitation-only parties. Silly children.
A week ago I was presented with a poster to sign. In case my exclusion had been an oversight, I asked, “Why, what’s this for?” in case they would answer, “Why, the surprise party!” and I would say, “What surprise party?” and then they’d say, “The surprise party for [groom-to-be]. Didn’t you get an invitation?”
But they didn’t say that. “Oh,” they said, “It’s for [groom-to-be] and [bride-to-be].” No explanation. I signed a neutral “Best Wishes, Ellen.”
Last Wednesday I found a card on my desk. I signed that too. I didn’t want to say anything or embarrass anyone. Plus, you usually talk about surprise parties as little as possible, except for my department, which talks about surprise parties extensively and exclusively right outside my cubicle.
Thursday night I told the hostess I’d be at home Friday.
She said, “No problem. Will we see you tomorrow night?”
“What’s tomorrow night?” I asked, which finally led to the “What do you mean you weren’t invited?” conversation, continuing on to the perusal of the email invitation, and concluding with the gathering of all the party-planners, who all chimed together with, “No, really we meant to invite you!”
“Please,” I said dismissively, “Don’t even try. I’ve done this before myself – someone you didn’t mean to invite hears about the party and then it’s all, ‘Oh! The invitation must have been LOST in the MAIL ! Of COURSE you’re invited!’ Here, I’ll do the wide eyes, just like you.”
So naturally they had concocted an excuse by the time I got there the next evening, claiming “Helen S_____” from a different department had been put on the invitation in my place by mistake. It didn’t matter. I had a great time riding everyone’s ass.
Groom-to-be: “Wow! I’m totally surprised! I had no idea. Noone of you made a peep about this.”
Me: “Are you kidding? I knew all about it and I wasn’t even invited.”
Picture a variation on that every five minutes. I had fun. I like riding the ass more than anything.
9 responses to “Forgetiquette”
Hm…I myself have done this but I think I did it wrong. You must have been playful and gleeful where I think I looked like Anne Boleyn walking toward the chopping block.
1) Didn’t Helen S______ reply something along the lines of “Who is ____ and why I am invited to a wedding shower for him?”2) Who’s getting married?
That’s totally awesome. It’s nice to have the upper hand and to wave it like you just don’t care sometimes.
Helen. Ellen. It’s all the same, right?
Becs – Oh, I exaggerated the humor like I was in a fifties tv series.Caroline – No, because she has worked in the past with Arter-cay. She didn’t reply at all. I’ve forgotten her actual name; I’ll email it when I get in. You might work with her.Catherine – Yep! I’m still not invited to the actual wedding. Little do they know how Gary loves buying wedding presents.Magpie – Well, not according to Outlook.
Huh. Well good for him. I’d have fallen out of my chair had it been Eve-stay. Or however you do that in pig Latin.
Caroline – Yup. That’s right.
I’d have been really mad if they’d asked me to chip in for a present.
TasterSpoon – I offered and they refused. Especially since I’M NOT INVITED TO THE WEDDING.