Hidden Insults
I recently attended the wedding of a good friend of mine from college. I refer to him here as a "good friend" on the off chance he reads this. Unlike my "good friend" and his lovely new wife, I don't want to offend anybody.
Our story begins with their registry. The happy couple registered for real pricey items that most married couples ask for and surely never use, like fancy china, crystal sugar bowls, golden creamers, lace duvet covers and vacuum cleaners. This came as a mild shock since the last friend of mine from college (note the absence of the word "good" before the word "friend." Not a mistake) registered for shit you buy on a regular basis like energy bars, cat litter and mouthwash (not a joke). I was taken aback by the sudden increase in my "good friend's" class and style as it was not uncommon that while coaching tennis he would sleep on the floor of his office, purchase condoms online in bulk and catch middle-aged cleaning men masturbating at his computer in the middle of the night. I guess marriage changes some people, and in my "good friend's" case it appears to be for the better. But I'm getting off the subject.
My wife (hold the laughter, she's real) did the wedding gift purchasing for the two of us. Anybody who has ever unwrapped a gift from me can assure you, dear reader, that this was for the best. Sure enough, about a week or so after the wedding we received a lovely, well-written thank you note. It was clear by the handwriting, spelling and vocabulary that the note was written by my "good friend's" wife. This I can tell you came as no shock, for if you were to call my "good friend" on his cell phone and get his voicemail you will be greeted not by his subtle baritone but by the voice of his wife instructing you to leave a message for her husband (she uses the longer, and more formal version of his name) and if you were to glance at the license plate of his car, you would see his wife's name. My "good friend" suffers from Pussytus (Puss-eye-tus), which is a regrettable medical condition causing the sufferer to be a pussy. I am well acquainted with the ailment as I've struggled with a fairly strong case of it for the better part of the last decade. Trust me, it can be brutal. Though not fatal, patients tend to wish it was.
Back to the thank you note, in which this crafty castigation is so carefully concealed. First of all, to my dismay, we were thanked for the exact kind of crappy gift that I was hoping we wouldn't give. Apparently we donated a vase, a few "serving pieces" and of course, a sugar creamer to their china cabinet, most likely never to be seen again. That, however, is beside the point. As I played no part in the purchasing of the gifts, it's hardly my place to complain about what was purchased. Moving on. The following is an excerpt from the conclusion of said thank you note:
"(We) love to entertain, so I can assure it will all be put to good use."
When read over casually, one can find no fault at all with the sentence. They like to entertain, we bought them some of the means to entertain. As Homer Simpson would say "It's all wrapped up in a neat little package." But I just don't see it that way. The way I see it, this sentence is a thinly-veiled slap in the face. It should quite naturally have come to a more logical and friendly conclusion:
"We love to entertain, and we look forward to having you for a visit in the near future."
But in this case, it most certainly does not. In fact, the note seems to imply that not only are we
not invited over, but we are to be assured that our gifts are being used by other, more important friends and we should be so assured that we should, under no circumstances, take it upon ourselves to investigate the usage of these items, but rather merely trust that those close enough to the newlyweds are enjoying them. It would seem that my "good friend" has stripped the word "good" from his description of our relationship, and soon I will be nothing more than an "old friend," and then "acquaintence," and then merely "that guy I watched masturbate in college." I am left to assume that my "good friend" is enjoying a better life now that he is married, and that his new and better life will apparently not ever include me.
But then again, how would it be better if it did?
P.S. I find myself wondering if there are any relationships I wish I'd severed after my own wedding....
Dear Josh,
Thank you so much for the Simpsons Calendar and magazine subscription. You can be sure that we will be filling our calendar in with many trips to visit our close friends and family. None of these visits will be to see you, but rest assured, we will take many wonderful trips and have great times with good friends.
Our story begins with their registry. The happy couple registered for real pricey items that most married couples ask for and surely never use, like fancy china, crystal sugar bowls, golden creamers, lace duvet covers and vacuum cleaners. This came as a mild shock since the last friend of mine from college (note the absence of the word "good" before the word "friend." Not a mistake) registered for shit you buy on a regular basis like energy bars, cat litter and mouthwash (not a joke). I was taken aback by the sudden increase in my "good friend's" class and style as it was not uncommon that while coaching tennis he would sleep on the floor of his office, purchase condoms online in bulk and catch middle-aged cleaning men masturbating at his computer in the middle of the night. I guess marriage changes some people, and in my "good friend's" case it appears to be for the better. But I'm getting off the subject.
My wife (hold the laughter, she's real) did the wedding gift purchasing for the two of us. Anybody who has ever unwrapped a gift from me can assure you, dear reader, that this was for the best. Sure enough, about a week or so after the wedding we received a lovely, well-written thank you note. It was clear by the handwriting, spelling and vocabulary that the note was written by my "good friend's" wife. This I can tell you came as no shock, for if you were to call my "good friend" on his cell phone and get his voicemail you will be greeted not by his subtle baritone but by the voice of his wife instructing you to leave a message for her husband (she uses the longer, and more formal version of his name) and if you were to glance at the license plate of his car, you would see his wife's name. My "good friend" suffers from Pussytus (Puss-eye-tus), which is a regrettable medical condition causing the sufferer to be a pussy. I am well acquainted with the ailment as I've struggled with a fairly strong case of it for the better part of the last decade. Trust me, it can be brutal. Though not fatal, patients tend to wish it was.
Back to the thank you note, in which this crafty castigation is so carefully concealed. First of all, to my dismay, we were thanked for the exact kind of crappy gift that I was hoping we wouldn't give. Apparently we donated a vase, a few "serving pieces" and of course, a sugar creamer to their china cabinet, most likely never to be seen again. That, however, is beside the point. As I played no part in the purchasing of the gifts, it's hardly my place to complain about what was purchased. Moving on. The following is an excerpt from the conclusion of said thank you note:
"(We) love to entertain, so I can assure it will all be put to good use."
When read over casually, one can find no fault at all with the sentence. They like to entertain, we bought them some of the means to entertain. As Homer Simpson would say "It's all wrapped up in a neat little package." But I just don't see it that way. The way I see it, this sentence is a thinly-veiled slap in the face. It should quite naturally have come to a more logical and friendly conclusion:
"We love to entertain, and we look forward to having you for a visit in the near future."
But in this case, it most certainly does not. In fact, the note seems to imply that not only are we
not invited over, but we are to be assured that our gifts are being used by other, more important friends and we should be so assured that we should, under no circumstances, take it upon ourselves to investigate the usage of these items, but rather merely trust that those close enough to the newlyweds are enjoying them. It would seem that my "good friend" has stripped the word "good" from his description of our relationship, and soon I will be nothing more than an "old friend," and then "acquaintence," and then merely "that guy I watched masturbate in college." I am left to assume that my "good friend" is enjoying a better life now that he is married, and that his new and better life will apparently not ever include me.
But then again, how would it be better if it did?
P.S. I find myself wondering if there are any relationships I wish I'd severed after my own wedding....
Dear Josh,
Thank you so much for the Simpsons Calendar and magazine subscription. You can be sure that we will be filling our calendar in with many trips to visit our close friends and family. None of these visits will be to see you, but rest assured, we will take many wonderful trips and have great times with good friends.
posted by Tent Time at 11:25 PM
2 Comments:
I mean honestly...who knew that you actually wanted a $60 audobon (sp?)...if I thought there was a 5% chance you wanted that, we would have bought it....
That was great! If I ever find myself bored and with some time to kill, this may be fun to read again.
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