I rushed to judgement. The notion of an imaginary bridal shower – where there is no transportation hassle, no gift-opening ceremony with requisite gushing over tablecloths, and no need to wrap an actual gift, was enchanting. I gave the idea of a virtual shower my whole-hearted endorsement. Then, I was invited to a second imaginary shower.
Like the first imaginary shower, the reason given for the lack of a physical shower, in the invitation, is that the bride is busy. Since I’m not a friend of her’s, I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.
I can’t even confirm that there is an actual wedding taking place, as I never received an invitation. Update: I have since received the invitation, with apologies from the bride. There was a mailing oversight.
While the original imaginary bridal shower was given by the bride’s sister, who I can personally attest is a kind soul, I don’t know this party planner. I don’t even recognize her name; I don’t recall the bride ever mentioning her. All I know right now is that she’s very efficient. In addition to coordinating the shower, she mailed out all the invitations, each of which included a self-address envelope, pre-stamped. The invitation, which rhymes nicely, explains that the envelope is to be used to send the $25 check each guest is to deliver the party planner so she can buy gifts for the bride.
That’s one way to introduce yourself.
I do not blame the bride for the party planner’s actions. I can attest that she is a generous person, almost to a fault. It’s quite possible that she is unaware of any of this, as she’s been so wrapped up in wedding plans that I haven’t seen her in months. For that reason, I’m happy to send the bride a gift. The bride is a nice person; if I can, in some small way, help her start off with a nice home I’m happy to do so. Yet the imaginary shower has made that difficult.
The party planner’s demand of $25 is more than I spend on most of my close friends, and I have no desire to get into a pitched battle with the party planner about my contribution. I don’t want to spend $25, and I don’t want to write a cover letter to explain why. This is where the imaginary aspect of the bridal shower has failed me. I cannot buy a gift to my own specifications, which I could have brought to a bridal shower. I can’t drop a gift off with the bride, as I’m not sure she knows where she’s living. Instead, I’m now forced to return to the Bed, Bath, and Beyond website with its over-priced shipping.
There has got to be a better way to do this.