1. If you can’t decide what to give them, give them the best gift of all: money. In fact, even if you do have a perfect gift in mind, you’re wrong. You do not have the perfect gift. Money is the only perfect gift.
If you cannot afford to give money, your presence is all that counts. And if you can’t afford to give money, but you do crochet and shit, crochet some shit for them. Crochet your happy, crocheting ass off.
But if you do have money, give money. Because weddings are damn expensive. And unless they’re in that 1 percent of salmon-colored-pants-wearing motherfuckers whose family owns the rights to the color orange and is paying for the entire thing, they will need money. And no amount of money is too small; $20 can be a year’s worth of pepper for the salads they’re eating every day after the wedding because they can’t afford steak anymore.
Again, if you don’t have $20, crochet some shit. If you do, show them the fucking money.
2. No, seriously. I know they have a registry, and I know the registry has a bunch of faux-bougie shit on it, but Crate and Barrel doesn’t need any of your money. Your soon-to-be-married friends do, though.
What’s the point of buying them a $180 plate set if they’re going to be eating cat food on it until September?
Seriously. Rome wasn’t built in a day. And I know that idiom doesn’t quite fit here, but the point is that they know people have lives outside of their lives, and if you can’t go cross-country just to watch a bunch of your boy’s Facebook friends eat dry steak and moist cake for four hours, they understand.
4. Plus, they kinda aren’t expecting everyone they invited to come. Actually, they’re hoping and praying that, like, 10-15 percent of the invitees stay home.
It’s nothing personal. Really, it’s not. It’s just that every extra RSVP is extra money they have to spend. So while they’d love for you to be there, they’ll also appreciate your nonpresence. Unless you’re, like, family and shit (well, some family).
5. But if you RSVP and your ass doesn’t show up, you’d better be stuck in the bottom of a well that’s in the bottom of an actual whale. Like, seriously. You need to be stuck in a whale’s ass.
Because if there’s any other reason your bitch ass RSVPed and didn’t come, you’re going to have to fight the bride. And by “fight” I mean “get stabbed by.”
You might be able to finesse anyone from a fuck buddy to the actual driver of the Megabus you rode to get there. But if you live a block away and you’re not sure if your person qualifies as serious enough to bring, ask yourself how sad you’d be if they died. If you’re still not sure, ask yourself how sad they’d be if you died.
Your answer is your answer.
If you’re at a wedding, you’re officially too old not to know how much to drink. If you pass out on the dance floor or in some hilariously random place like behind a vintage pinball machine, do not be surprised if you’re left there until the next morning. Everyone has on their good clothes, and just because you got messy doesn’t mean they have to, too.
That’s really the only reason they invited you. They want all their closest friends and family to share in the love and have as much fun as they’re having.
But still, do show them the money.