TueDuesday: Dancing with Myself: On Attending a Wedding Alone

Welcome back to TueDuesday: A (Mostly) Weekly Series on Self Improvement (and Self Preservation), where I share some of the hard-earned tips and tricks that have made their way up my sleeve after well over a decade of living alone in the city. 

TueDuesday goes out to all of you who have ever bravely moved into your very own apartment, only to encounter a cockroach the size of a well-fed hamster.  Barefoot.  In the middle of the night.  To all the ambitious drinkers who ever wanted to score the bartender’s number (and to the many of us who have failed, only to bravely try again).  To the pasta fiends.  To the Facebook lurkers.  To the happy, the hopeful, and the possibly hung-over guys and gals like me, navigating the city streets – or the country roads – without benefit of a map or a significant other.  Whether you’re chronically single, newly separated or happily coupled up and just looking for a way to make the occasional table for one a little more fun, there’s something here for you.

Like what you see?  Pass it along!  Strongly disagree?  Say so in the comments!  (Respectfully, please; after growing up with the last name Blewett, my ego can only take so much.)  Have an idea for a future TueDuesday post?  Send it over!  And keep in touch, via Twitter @LeahKBlewett and Instagram @leahkblewett.

Happy TueDuesday!

TueDuesday, June 2, 2015

Dancing with Myself: Attending a Wedding Alone

Welcome to Wedding Season, and happy TueDuesday!  It has been entirely too long, and clearly my TueDuesday on “How to Stop Procrastinating” still needs some work, so let’s pour one out instead for all of those lucky June brides and learn How to Attend a Wedding Alone.

At this point in my life, I’ve attended nearly a dozen weddings as a full-fledged adult (read: as a wedding guest who isn’t shooed dismissively away from the open bar), most of them alone.  It’s not that my friends are cheap or selfish and wouldn’t spring for a date; most of them offered (exceptions to this statement: you know who you are).  But the truth is, when RSVP time came, I just wasn’t seeing anyone special enough to ask my newlywed pals to buy him dinner.  Or else I was so steadfastly single that the prospect of limiting myself to a BYO-date at an event full of men in suits sounded about as appealing as the mysterious “mixed seafood” option on the reply card. 

[Places check mark -- and several exclamation points -- next to STEAK; pats self on back; chooses dress that will not burst at the seams from copious consumption thereof]

Attending a wedding alone is a lot like doing anything else alone, except that it generally costs a lot more money and is way more likely to stir up suicidal tendencies if you’re anything less than happily uncoupled.  You’ll be surrounded, not just by the couple of the hour, but by generations of other couples: their adorable grandparents, their clique of friends half-jokingly asking each other who’s next, the flower girl and ring bearer, the wacky aunt and Husband Number Four (or Is It Five?).  You’ve got to be made of some pretty stern stuff to stare all of that sap right in the face and then politely order a glass of champagne instead of a double gin martini, hold the olives, if you please, they’re just going to take the edge off of my buzz and I need every precious nerve-dulling bit of it, ok, barkeep??

The fact is, I’ve actually had a lot of fun (and a few flings) attending weddings alone.  Beyond an iron constitution, here are a few other things you’ll want to pack to guarantee yourself the same success:

Your Morning After Purse.  Sure, cocktail purses are adorable.  They’re also the territory of women whose dates have pockets.  You’re flying solo here, Earhart, so bring whatever you think you’ll need, whether that’s breath mints or clean undies or condoms or lip gloss or a flask or all of the above.  (...it’s all of the above.)

Singles.  Not, like, “all the single ladies” (though, yes, you can expect to be forced to dance to that song with all of the nearly engaged women and their promise rings, all the while thinking to yourself: These bitches don’t know what single IS.  Talk to me when you’re the only one in your apartment staring down a spider at 2 a.m.!)  I’m talking about dolla dolla bills, y’all.  Because when it comes to making a friend at a wedding, Target Number One is the bartender, and tipping generously is the way to do it.  I like to start with a $5 or a $10 early in the night, so he remembers me, then slip him a couple of singles for every subsequent drink.  Come last call, guess who’s the only one getting topped off while the caterers break down?  Hint: it’s not the bride’s Uncle Diamond Jim who talked a big game all night and never left a dime on the bartop.  Plus, it is a known fact that bartenders are hot.  Like, a disproportionate number of them.

A Topiary Worth Watering.  Even if you’re not planning on getting lucky, you’d be amazed at how often hastily cobbled couples slip upstairs between the first dance and the cake.  Whatever it is you do to your private parts to make yourself feel enticing, do that.  Who knows who might want to take a stroll through your garden after dark?  I myself once successfully landed a groomsman strictly on the confidence of my post-vacation bikini wax.  Fun fact: we couldn’t figure out how to make the clock radio work, so we ended up boning with Fox News for ambiance.  If you’re a liberal, and he is, too, this is a great way to make sure that you both make enough noise to drown out the commentary.

A Conversation Starter.  And I’m not talking about “How ‘bout them Yankees?” (though you’d be surprised how well that actually works at New York-area weddings).  Know something about the location, whether it’s your hometown or a destination.  Chances are you’re going to be seated with at least a few people you’ve never met before, and the location of the wedding is instant common ground.  Google is your friend here.  On a lake?  Know its name and a fun fact about its history.  In a city?  There’s definitely a major sports team you can reference.  Down in the tropics?  Bust out your home remedy for sunburn or mention the cute café you visited for a coffee before the ceremony.  Being the fun guest that people remember is as simple as being able to talk to everyone without bringing up religion or politics.

A Hotel Room.  Non-negotiable.  Sure, it’s expensive, but having a room of your own when it’s all over – whether you have company or not – transforms the night from a sullen meal among strangers into a playful prelude to the real vacation.  Which could just as easily be a frisky all-nighter or a soak in the tub and a sprawled-out night’s sleep among high thread-count sheets.  Stock your room with a bottle of booze (instead of raiding the costly minibar), and you’ve just guaranteed that the after-party, should you so choose, will come to you.

A Disposable Camera.  Everyone will be focusing on the photographer, and you’ll be snapping cute candids of the bride’s mother dabbing her mascara in the restroom after the ceremony or her little cousins stealthily pocketing everyone else’s favors when their tables are called up to the buffet.  It will give you something to do while everyone else is slow-dancing, instead of the ever-appealing “sitting here by myself, trying to look bored” routine.  And if you find yourself a bedfellow, you can shoot an album to remember them by; if not, you’ll have a brilliant first anniversary gift for your friends.