Upon receiving your invitation

Author: Amy Derby

The twelve-foot walk from mailbox to front door felt mile-long that Indian Summer Monday, as I clenched your delicate proposal to my palpitating heart. The laminated pearls — or were they pressed lilacs? — were overshadowed by my fear of intimacy.

“You are cordially invited to help us warm our new home,” your invitation beckoned to me as I clutched my doorknob. “Please RSVP at your earliest convenience.”

Beyond the three panel window in my cluttered den, the watercolor richness of dusk crept in and swallowed the sun. Temperatures dropped, and night painted combat boots blasting black clouds of manic desperation against the horizon. My 60-watt desk lamp would be no match for this battle of Mind vs Nature, but it would hold its own nevertheless.

For three excruciating days, I agonized over the detrimental details of my inability to be normal and pondered the sanest way to respond. Should I concede to the etiquette guruisms of Emily Post or heed the cumulative advice of thousands of dollars worth of therapists? Be the good girl Mommy always wanted, or embrace my inner brat?

After exhausting the art of the pro/con list, I wrote and re-wrote (and again re-wrote) my regrets. My procrastination had left no time for the post office. E-mail, though tacky, would have to suffice.

Version I: The Truth, in Grave Detail

Allow me to preface my guilt with an explanation: it’s not you, it’s me. Intellectually I know it is perfectly normal for a friend of five years to invite me to her housewarming party. Yet, my gut is rumbling at the thought of entering your cohabitation, your sacred ground. Your boyfriend’s boxers in the hamper, the toilet seat left lifted, the His and Hers porn collections: I just don’t think I could handle being in the presence of these possibilities. Thus, I hope you’ll understand that I can’t make it. But I wish you all the happiness it’s possible to have living with a man who uses your toothbrush to detail his earwax.

Version II: The Lie, in Even Greater Detail

Darn it all, but I just realized I have a prior commitment on the day of your housewarming party. It seems my friend Gloria, who you haven’t met because she is agoraphobic and rarely has dinner parties, is having a dinner party that evening. Since Gloria lives on the other side of the state, and I’ll have to take two trains and a bus to get there, there isn’t even the possibility that I can swing by your party first and show up at her party late. Please don’t feel betrayed, as I am not choosing her over you. I simply can’t bring myself to say no to her, due to her agoraphobia and the great bravery it’s taken her to open her home to the intimate group of us she’s extended this invitation to. Plus, she did ask me first. And really, I only now noticed the conflict. My bad. But I hope your party is grand, and that you’ll post lots of pictures on your Facebook wall.

Version III: The Polite Thing To Do

Thank you so much for inviting me to your housewarming party next Saturday. As much as I would love to be there, I have a previous engagement. I’m sure the place is beautiful, and I look forward to seeing it another time. I’m certain the party will be lovely, as all your parties are. My best to Steve, and congrats again on your new home.

Only you know me well enough to know which version I sent.

About the Author:

Amy Derby writes from Chicago where she lives with her pet rabbits Ginsberg, Kerouac, and Burroughs. For more, visit: http://amyderby.org

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