I had heard from one of my college roommates over a year ago that she was engaged. I mean, this wasn’t exactly earth-shattering. She and her fiance had been together since med school. They’d suffered rotations, residencies, and worst of all (according to them) Dayton, OH together. So, one could forgive me when I almost forgot about their wedding because they already seemed married in my mind. That is, until about a week ago, when the invitation showed up in my mailbox. And with it, a pit of dread began to form in my stomach.
This is one of those weddings that everyone comes across occasionally. Other than the bride and groom, I wouldn’t know ANYONE at this wedding. I mean, I remember her mom from visits in college, but it’s not like we were pals. You don’t know the parents of your college friends in the same way that you know the parents of your high school friends. Also, I highly doubt any of our other roommates would be attending the wedding…not that I’ve talked to them since college, either. The only damn person I’ve kept in touch with is the one up on the alter, which does me no good whatsoever at a table for one.
Here is where the anxiety begins. Being unmarried myself, I have no one who is obligated to go to this thing with me. At least in that situation, you have someone to sit and drink free booze with whilst pretending you recognize people. If I do that by myself, I just look sad. Or like an alcoholic.
I’ve racked my brain trying to come up with a friend I can con/bribe into coming along so I don’t look completely pathetic. But the added bonus of this wedding is not only is it out of town, but it is also on a Friday. So anyone coming with me would feasibly have to take off of work. I can’t ask Jeff to do that when he has no paid vacation time and a wife and kid he probably doesn’t see enough as it is. Laura has to work the next day. Besides, she already suffered through one of these with me last year. I can’t ask her to go through that again.
I can get out on a technicality because I really don’t have any vacation time either. So I would be perfectly justified in saying “no.” But I hate that I will miss her big day because I’m a loser who can’t get anyone to hang out with her for one night. And I hate that I feel like I have to have someone with me in order to do this. Alas, both of those things are true, whether I hate it or not. I don’t have anyone to go with, and I don’t want to go alone.
I’m such a girl. A pathetic, sad, party-of-one girl.