Avoiding the Faux Pas.

It occurred to me this evening that I’m so glad I wasn’t invited to the wedding which took place in the village three weeks ago. There are two reasons for that, the first of which must be so obvious as to hardly need expounding, at least not to anyone with so much as a gram of emotional acumen. The second is my attitude to weddings in general and the concomitant obligation under which it would have placed me to make my excuses as politely as possible. I would have needed to write a letter along the lines of:

Dear Mrs P

Thank you so much for inviting me to your daughter’s wedding. It was most kind of you. It is with regret, however, that I must sadly decline owing to an unfortunate and incapacitating condition which precludes my attendance.

I do hope you have a splendid day

Yours etc

And that would have been that until I accidentally bumped into members of the family out riding their bikes, walking the dog, or being engaged in some other activity which resulted in our paths crossing. They would have greeted me:

‘Hello, Jeff.’ (That’s as much as I usually get, but this time they would have gone on.) ‘I didn’t know you were ill.’

‘Well, erm, I’m not actually ill as such.’

‘But you said you had a condition.’

‘I do.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see, and what sort of condition is it – if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I have a serious allergy.’

‘Oh dear, that sounds awful. An allergy to what, exactly?’

‘Weddings.’

And then they would have hurried off in a huff, congratulating each other on the fact that they’d never invited me to tea in the eleven years I've known them. It would have been very embarrassing.