For you, the dress code is casual.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

A Two-Fer

You remember when you were a kid, and you'd start being annoying, and your mother would turn around and snap at you, "Ooh... Don't you start with me!"

Well, we've got this store chain here in Canada, "Canadian Tire," and their new slogan (starting last year) is "I'll start with you." What the fuck is that supposed to mean anyhow?

Clearly I'm undereducated and just don't get the sheer brilliance of this slogan that they've paid sick amounts of money to an advertising house to conjure.

But just between you and me? There aren't many stores that are more annoying to shop in than Canadian Tire. Maybe that was the point?

Invitation: A spoken or written request for someone's presence or participation.
Once upon a world, people sent these little things out called "invitations." It would be the act of asking you to attend an event being hosted by those who sent the "invitation" out.

The invitation then would ask you to "RSVP." For those who missed the basic etiquette class, this means
répondez s'il vous plaît. In English, that means "answer the invite, fucker."

Seriously. What the hell happened to basic etiquette? Someone offers to have you in, to feed you, to wine you, dine you, and give you a warm, inviting place to be, you fucking have the decency to RESPOND, at the very least.

I'm having a party next weekend, and maybe I should've phone everyone to ensure they received their email invites, but I live in the real world and I work and have a lot of responsibilities. Email's more convenient, considering I'm putting myself out to open my home up to people.

Of those invited, one-third have had the decency to respond.

Know what the problem is? Everyone in North America is so fucking self-involved with their little lives that no one entertains at home anymore. To host a party, you virtually need to be born with a Martha Stewart gene. We live in a society where people just don't understand the concept of throwing dinner parties and entertaining friends.

The rest of the world? They get it. They understand that by entertaining at home you get to control the music volume. You get to establish a mood conducive to folks enjoying each others' company. You get to choose the exact food you want to eat, and control the costs much better. You don't need to worry about some dickhead waiter who smells a better, bigger tip at another table. You don't need to concern yourself with the ignorant fucking party of eight sitting two tables away, shouting at the top of their lungs because they think they're witty enough that the whole restaurant should hear them.

Some of us, like me, are born to entertain folks at home. I don't clear shit away for a dance party, but I do establish an environment that really invites great conversation and real camaraderie.

But every time shit like this goes down, fuckheads who don't have the decency to acknowledge the efforts I've gone through and will go through deserve a response, I get a little less interested in trying to accommodate people in my home.

The season for home entertaining is just getting started, and if you're one of these people who doesn't even bother to contact your hostess, then I have four words for you:

Smarten the fuck up.