A while back, like a year ago or so, Matt and I won tickets for a private box at a Sundance film at a charity auction.

Sundance finally happened this year. So we asked quite a few people and I put it up on facebook and twitter that we had free tickets, enough for 15 people to go. And in the end, we had 13 people, including us, committed to come. Only seven (yay us!) showed up.

While this wouldn’t bother me if only five people told me they could come, five people didn’t tell me they could come. Eleven people told me they could come. One girl emailed me the next day saying she’d thought it was the next week. A friend’s date woke up at 5 p.m. Two guys never said anything about why they were absent. One guy just texted a few hours beforehand saying he didn’t feel like coming.

And dammit, it’s just rude.

I see this happen all the time, and maybe it’s a lack of organization on their part with not knowing the day or not setting an alarm, but I think a lot of it stems from not having to interact with the person you’re letting down. You can just send a quick text or shoot off an email or rsvp maybe to a facebook event and just never show up. You don’t have to call someone and hear the disappointment.

A friend had a pole party a month or so ago. She invited almost 40 people, most of whom were close friends. Few wanted to commit to it. I saw plenty of “I hope I can make it!” and “I’ll totally be there if it’s not snowing.” and “Sounds fun! I’ll try to be there.” Plenty of people maybed* into coming. But I know how it goes. It’s 6:45 p.m. on Saturday night and you’re still unshowered, in pajamas and there’s all these unwatched episodes of Ghost Hunters and Toddlers and Tiaras and Parenthood on On Demand. So you remember the party, but you only rsvped maybe, and everyone else will go, right?, so it’s okay to text that something came up and you won’t be there, even though in reality the only thing that came up is your blood sugar as you cram another Oreo in your gaping maw. I’ve been there. I totally know how that goes. Because god knows I’ve put away a pack of Oreos in my greasy-haired, draw-stringed pants glory before.

But you know who else I’ve been? That person getting text after text two hours before something is supposed to start. That person whose heart sinks knowing all these people she thought were good friends coming to hang out are actually kind of flaky assholes**. After a couple times of that happening, I stopped rsvping maybe and giving in to laziness at the last minute. I give a yes or a no. And if I give a yes, I will be there, no matter how tempting flannel bralessness and cookies can seem. I’ve also rediscovered something pretty amazing. Once I force myself to overcome my inherent hermitude, I have fun.

So back to the party. I was the only person that showed up to my friend’s party. I got there 45 minutes late after running errands all day. Every single person had canceled on her and she was stuck with a kitchen full of junk food that she never eats otherwise. She’d just gotten in a fight with her husband after he asked, oblivious, one too many times, “I thought you were having a party tonight?” Then she started crying. I know how she feels.

I’m not asking everyone to always go to everything. Don’t feel bad about saying no if you don’t have the time or money. I know people need to veg out alone sometimes. Just please go to what you say you will, unless you have a really good reason not to. Don’t weasel out of things thinking it’s somehow better to say maybe.

Please? Because it sucks when nobody’s there. I just want life to suck less.

 

*For someone who hates the new verbs gift and thrift being in the lexicon, I sure don’t mind making up my own versions do I? Oh contradiction, thy name is Di.

**Flaky asshole bad mental image aside, I fully acknowledge that life happens and that most of those people aren’t really assholes, they just seem like it at the time.