That time has come. The moment which I must send my RSVP to friend’s wedding, and for some reason I thought I wouldn’t have to do it… I mean, I’m in the wedding. But I was even more taken back by the mention that I was allowed to bring a guest. Seeing that this is taking place in Indiana I don’t see myself getting a plus one to join me for a couple of days, it’s hard enough to find one that you want to spend just one day with. But then again, it dawned on me, “are they trying to send me a message that I should have a plus one because everyone there will be taken, and I will be forced to join the barkeep for the entirety of the wedding?” I had a moment of desperation once this thought crossed my mind that I went through my contacts three times. Unfortunately I am my own worse enemy when it comes to that (or my best friend, depends on how you see it). The problem? Well, I tend to rename certain gentleman in my life in my phonebook. You know, to remind me of their short comings or just remind me that they are assholes. For instance- ‘Saggy Balls’, reading that name in my contacts says it all, so I move on, and it doesn’t get much better.
But then I remembered that I was in the same pickle last year with Brian’s wedding. I ended up going with a girlfriend of mine and let me tell you, we had a blast. But this time I don’t see myself being able to coerce someone into coming, especially for a couple of days and the cost. So here I am, looking at this RSVP reply and thinking that I atleast have to put that I’m lactose intolerant… and that it will only be me. But by that same token, I know that I am my best company. Truth be told that there is never a real dull moment when I’m around.
Besides, if there are any single men who do you think they’ll want to ask to dance? The bridesmaid (with the guava colored dresses) or the super cool chick (wearing a sleek black dress) that was on men’s side with amazing legs? The counsel rests.