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One is the Loneliest Number
My friends’ New Years Eve nuptials have left me in a bit of a quandary.
By Hannah Wallace
Ok, here’s the story:
My pal (and hockey teammate) Corinne is getting married (to our hockey coach, incidentally) on December 31. I, of course, am overjoyed, good for them. Equally pleasing: This means I actually have plans for New Years Eve.
Option two means inviting along a buddy as my usual platonic safety blanket. I’ve got some good guy friends who frequently help me out in that manner, saints that they are, but here’s where New Years works against me: Chances are, they have better things to do that night than placate my insecurities.
So thank goodness for the wedding. Party guaranteed: A hundred people, booze and badinage, music and celebrating, flowers, garters, centerpieces—the whole shebang. All the things I usually enjoy about weddings conveniently doubling as Official Plans for the Holiday.
The trouble, of course, is the obligatory plus-one.
I always, always, always RSVP to weddings as “two attending” and I never, never, never have a date. And this one’s a real doozie—it’s all happening at the Tradewinds resort in Tampa, so there’s a whole dance of the hotel room to be done. Had I already been ankle-deep in a relationship at this point (as apparently I’d hoped when I RSVPed), the hotel room would simply be a cute little logistical issue to work out. Now it’s like, “Hey, wanna go to a wedding, and oh, by the way, I snore.”
Plus, there’s nothing like attending a wedding stag on New Years. Everybody all kissing at midnight—and there I am, sitting by myself, face-planting in cake…alone, all alone. Yeah, I can’t wait to kick off 2007 with a good cry.
So, apart from falling headlong into some guy in the next two weeks (Santa baby, a handsome, clever athlete for me, 6’3”), here are my options:
One: Go it alone. I mean, really, it might not be so bad, since I’m sure to know a few people there (I’ve already been promised a seat at the cool table). And I could muster the strength to survive everyone else’s midnight make-out session, right? Or maybe I could just slip out to the ladies room at the stroke of 12….
Unfortunately, wouldn’t politeness require that I let the bride know now? Or am I just going to have that sad little empty seat next to me?
Option two means inviting along a buddy as my usual platonic safety blanket. I’ve got some good guy friends who frequently help me out in that manner, saints that they are, but here’s where New Years works against me: Chances are, they have better things to do that night than placate my insecurities.
And worst of all? I’ve got another damn wedding to attend on January 12.
So, come on, people, help me out here—thoughts? Suggestions? Reassurances?
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