Dear People Who Are Under The Impression That You Are Coming To Our Wedding: Send The Email.
We gave you an email address, and you are supposed to tell us whether or not you’re coming, and what you’re eating. If you have done so, well done, and thank you. If not, well, why not?
A number of people have tried some innovative reply strategies:
- Mentioning it to us in passing.
- Telling one of our parents.
- Telling some random relative.
- Thinking you’ve told somebody, but in fact not telling anybody.
- Not telling anybody anything, and assuming we know.
I don’t think anyone’s tried anything really random yet, like spray painting it on the side of a giraffe or stapling a pencilled note to a hobo, but the end result is the same, and cursory examination of these strategies will reveal that none of them involve you sending email to the specified address or specifying what you’ll be eating. Let me, if I may, propose an alternative: email us and tell us what you’ll be eating. If need be, arrange for us to be emailed, and told what you’ll be eating.
R.S.V.P. is french. It’s pronounced “rep on day, seal voo play”. It means “Reply, if you please.” I would like it to mean “answer, or you spend the night eating leftover appetizers standing up”, but my mercenary approach to these things is invariably softened by my somewhat-kinder-than-I fiancee.
While opinions on the matter diverge, I don’t think I’m an unreasonable man. I am willing to make exceptions, in dire circumstances, to this “you must email us” rule. For example, were you abandoned as an infant in the dark jungles of the African interior and raised by babboons? Are the restraints too sturdy for you to gnaw through? Are you being held hostage? Are you actually, at this moment, on fire? An exception can also be made if you’re Geofford, but that’s because his invitation is still sitting on my desk.
Rep on day, seal voo play. You people are infuriating, and I’m looking forward to seeing you at our wedding.