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Fair, like the weather
So what am I being a baby about now? Something that happened at the monthly cocktail party last weekend--or rather didn't happen.
To explain, I'll have to go back a month. At the previous cocktail party I was stressed. I ended up inviting too many and the first hour was just me running around trying to take care of everything--making sure there was enough ice, the newbies knew where the glassware was, nobody was trying to open a bottle with a hammer, etc. Eventually, things calmed down and I was able to enjoy myself, but in the meantime I bitched to a lot of people about how annoying it was.
One of them was my new friend Hot David. He suggested I hire someone for next time and I told him that if that's where this was headed then I wasn't interested. I said I would be willing, however, to ask some of the regulars for help. Like maybe assign one of them to keep an eye on the ice bucket, another to make sure recycling wasn't going into the trash, etc. He encouraged me to do this and offered to come early to help out himself.
Flash forward to Saturday afternoon. I sent a message to a chat group with a dozen of these friends (all couples) and Clint in it, prefacing it by explaining how poor Clint was sick and couldn't fulfill his usual duties. At first, I got no response. Then someone asked what Clint had--not because they were concerned about him but worried they might catch something. He replied saying he had a "stomach bug" and one-by-one I watched half of them cancel.
It was deflating to say the least. Oh, and how do I know they weren't concerned about Clint? Because not a one asked what they could do for him, nor has a single one of them inquired about him since. What makes it all the more baffling is that most of them spend these evenings on the back porch anyway and they all know the layout well enough to know that Clint's bedroom and bathroom are downstairs, so their contact would be minimal with him even inside.
I reached out to a friend for support and he basically took their side. I told him I understand that they might have legitimate health concerns, but the fact that none of them asked what they could do without attending (e.g. doing an ice run or something) made their decisions feel awful selfish. (But, you ask, haven't they checked in with me to see if everything turned out okay? Also no.)
We were supposed to meet for brunch this coming Sunday, but you know what? I just don't feel like it. I'd have to deal with them all telling me, "Sorry I didn't come on Saturday BUT..." while I sat there with a sympathetic expression on my face not saying what I actually thought. To hell with them.
Oh the party? A smashing success. I made a point of not mentioning it unless the other person brought it up or had explicitly asked me to remind them and that kept numbers down to a reasonable three dozen or so. I actually got to talk to everyone and even make some fun cocktails and one of the guests took over the kitchen to make some warm appetizers without me wanting to kill him. Hot David made sure someone was answering the door and El Huevón showed up with an extra big bag of ice, despite having spent the entire day getting sunburned at the state fair. You don't need a lot of friends, just the right ones.
To explain, I'll have to go back a month. At the previous cocktail party I was stressed. I ended up inviting too many and the first hour was just me running around trying to take care of everything--making sure there was enough ice, the newbies knew where the glassware was, nobody was trying to open a bottle with a hammer, etc. Eventually, things calmed down and I was able to enjoy myself, but in the meantime I bitched to a lot of people about how annoying it was.
One of them was my new friend Hot David. He suggested I hire someone for next time and I told him that if that's where this was headed then I wasn't interested. I said I would be willing, however, to ask some of the regulars for help. Like maybe assign one of them to keep an eye on the ice bucket, another to make sure recycling wasn't going into the trash, etc. He encouraged me to do this and offered to come early to help out himself.
Flash forward to Saturday afternoon. I sent a message to a chat group with a dozen of these friends (all couples) and Clint in it, prefacing it by explaining how poor Clint was sick and couldn't fulfill his usual duties. At first, I got no response. Then someone asked what Clint had--not because they were concerned about him but worried they might catch something. He replied saying he had a "stomach bug" and one-by-one I watched half of them cancel.
It was deflating to say the least. Oh, and how do I know they weren't concerned about Clint? Because not a one asked what they could do for him, nor has a single one of them inquired about him since. What makes it all the more baffling is that most of them spend these evenings on the back porch anyway and they all know the layout well enough to know that Clint's bedroom and bathroom are downstairs, so their contact would be minimal with him even inside.
I reached out to a friend for support and he basically took their side. I told him I understand that they might have legitimate health concerns, but the fact that none of them asked what they could do without attending (e.g. doing an ice run or something) made their decisions feel awful selfish. (But, you ask, haven't they checked in with me to see if everything turned out okay? Also no.)
We were supposed to meet for brunch this coming Sunday, but you know what? I just don't feel like it. I'd have to deal with them all telling me, "Sorry I didn't come on Saturday BUT..." while I sat there with a sympathetic expression on my face not saying what I actually thought. To hell with them.
Oh the party? A smashing success. I made a point of not mentioning it unless the other person brought it up or had explicitly asked me to remind them and that kept numbers down to a reasonable three dozen or so. I actually got to talk to everyone and even make some fun cocktails and one of the guests took over the kitchen to make some warm appetizers without me wanting to kill him. Hot David made sure someone was answering the door and El Huevón showed up with an extra big bag of ice, despite having spent the entire day getting sunburned at the state fair. You don't need a lot of friends, just the right ones.