Gate-crashing polyamorists are ruining my wedding
WHEN you begin planning a wedding you find yourself having all kinds of conversations you'd never imagined having to engage in.
For example, "how strict is the venue's no dog policy?" Or, "mum, I love you, but wearing an off-white floor-length gown to your own daughter's wedding is a bit off."
Twelve weeks out from my trip down the aisle I thought I'd mostly gotten the worst of these conversations out of the way and could now focus solely on consuming green juice and transforming into a radiant being.
Alas, thanks to one rogue guest, it seems not.
"Hi Katy, XXXX told me about the wedding, can't wait to come along. Wanted to let you know that I'm a vegan, and also check how many partners I'm able to bring? Not sure if XXXX mentioned it but I'm in an open relationship. Light and happiness" she wrote, somewhat oblivious to the irony of bringing multiple mates to a celebration of monogamous wedded bliss.
That email came not from someone I accidentally left off the guest list and have been cursing about ever since, but rather a person I haven't seen in almost seven years.
Another guest invited them, and, inadvertently it seems, their - wait for it - multiple partners.
Was it not for my curiosity of how many there are I'd probably have already replied and politely told them (and the guest who saw fit to extend invitations at their discretion) to bugger off. But as it stands, I now have no idea what to do other than stand outside the venue and wait for the mini-van pull up.
The guest in question is polyamorous, you see, and to the best of my knowledge lives in some kind of share-house-of-love situation. Kind of like Secret Life of Us, but with less secrets and more communal lube.
And good for her. So long as no one's stealing your food and everyone's paying their share of the electricity, live how you want to live, I say. I genuinely couldn't give two hoots how many or partners you have, so long as they're respectful, loving, and bring something meaningful into your life. Except, that is, for when it's at a wedding - also known as the most expensive day of someone's life.
You'd have to have been living under an abnormally large rock if you still don't know that putting on the average wedding costs couples a small fortune. Data Easy Weddings in 2017 puts the average wedding spend at $31,368, while Wedded Wonderland lists it as a staggering $51,245. And even when you're trying to do it on the cheap, costs add up at a frighteningly fast rate as soon as you begin thinking about plus ones (or in this instance, plus thrupples).
There's no denying that some of the best memories I have are from getting horrendously drunk and dancing the night away with my boyfriend at weddings, but I've also had to attend plenty solo due to the fact that whoever was getting married either couldn't afford to have more guests, hadn't booked a large enough venue to house everyone, or simply weren't sold on the idea of meeting someone they didn't know on the day of their wedding - my love for them be damned. And fair enough, really.
More often than not the couple getting married want you to enjoy yourself and walk away saying you had a good time. And if you're actually close to them, chances are they would invite any and all of the people who meaningfully consume your romantic life. But when it's someone you haven't hear from for the better part of a decade it's a little different.
So how do I say two's company, but five's a crowd? Probably just like that, I guess.
Katy Hall is a RendezView writer and producer.