How fortuitous! I’m sitting here, single and waiting for my roommate to return my car so I can go get my hair done for my sister’s wedding, when MSN posts this helpful screed on working a wedding while single. Since my sister and mother let it be known before the wedding that my bringing a date was probably the 147th most important thing of the day (more important than the bridesmaid’s manicures, less important than teaching me how to walk so I don’t lurch down the aisle like a zombie bridesmaid) obviously I’m very concerned about how it will look to the rest of the wedding guests if I turn up single.
This is because weddings are all about the guests. Specifically the crazy ones.
As awkward as it is to attend a wedding with someone you’ve only just started seeing — there’s nothing like accidentally catching a bouquet to accelerate the normal relationship timetable by, say, two or three years — going to a reception all by your lonesome self is even worse.
That is not a reasonable statement in any language or situation. What the hell is wrong with MSN lifestyle contributors?
This prospect is so daunting, in fact, that most singles fall back on one of three strategies: a) taking along a brother or sister (or a platonic friend of the opposite sex) and hoping no one asks any questions; b) sadly nursing a triple scotch in the lounge while all the happy couples are out on the floor slow-dancing; or c) invoking the “family emergency” rule and not showing up at all.
or d) take along a foreign friend who wants to see what American weddings are like. Continue with original plan of hanging out with cousins and friends you haven’t seen in forever, you know, like a sane person.
So how does a single person get through a wedding reception solo without invoking pity or amusement from guests fortunate enough to belong to Club Wed? By beginning the creepy weeks in advance, that’s how.
Perhaps because the occasion evokes so much dread, most single wedding-goers show up at the reception without doing any homework. That’s a mistake, says Keith Ferrazzi, author of Never Eat Alone: “You don’t have to wait for the wedding day to make contact with the other guests. In fact, it might lessen your nerves if you reach out a couple weeks in advance.
And once you get there, introduce yourself to all your new friends and remind them that you’re desperate and they’re only good to you if they know lots of eligible guys:
“A wedding provides a smorgasbord of people to meet. Even if The One isn’t there, every new person you meet has a network of 200 other people they know. Say hello to everyone, and subtly let them know you’re available.”
You could do some retail therapy, guys and girls alike. Nothing, apparently, lifts a guy out of the woe-is-single-me doldrums like a snappy new cummerbund.
Splurge a little and pamper yourself with a few spa treatments, or buy a new dress and a new pair of shoes. Guys can get new cummerbunds. The result will be an instant mood lift.
That’s right, they regendered the shopping therapy line. And it’s ridiculous, which means that retail therapy advice aimed at women is also ridiculous. I do in fact have a new dress and shoes for this event, and there is exactly 0.0% chance that it will end up on the floor of the guy I want to fuck-he won’t even be there, plus so far my crush in unrequited – and my frippery is wasted on the eyes of a bunch of married guys and my sister’s friends. This to me is more depressing than wearing an outfit I already know and love.
“I only go to weddings alone if I know there will be lots of kids there,” says Carol from New York. “Then I have my playmates, and the other adults appreciate the attention their children are getting.”
Um, Ok. Ever try talking to adults? Some of them have jobs and travel, just like you and me. They won’t all want to spend the whole reception berating you for being unlovable. Only your inner monologue cares about you that much.
And if all else fails, remember, those bastards only want you to find love so that you can end up fat, disillusioned, and unhappy, just like them.
Take it from me: When you’re absorbed in a single, dismal, self-pitying frame of mind, it’s easy to lose sight of the icy stares, forced laughter, and under-the-breath bickering that transpire for many ostensibly “happy” couples during a deluxe evening. My own dateless wedding strategy is to pal it up as much as I can with the folks at my table. Then, when I’m in danger of feeling blue, I replay all those overheard insidious comments as I lean back in my chair, nurse my triple scotch and watch the slow dance. It may not be very nice, but it sure does work!
When you think of it like that, who wouldn’t envy the happy couple? Oh, god, why won’t one of these selfish bastards introduce me to someone so I can join the fun?
Aight, I got to go put this satin dress in a bag and make sure all of my formal underwear is ready to go. Later, all.
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