This past weekend, I received my first wedding invitation.

Rewind for a second…At only 23 years young, I’ve already attended more than a dozen or so weddings. Most of these were Indian weddings, where food is generally served buffet style, guest counts and seating arrangements are often disregarded, and people of all ages are in attendance. I was never specifically invited for my personal relationship with the bride or groom (though in most cases I was pretty close with them), but because my entire family was friends with the wedding party’s (or parties’) families. Since graduating college, I have received a couple of these invitations seperate from my family (a formality as an acknowledgement of my independence). But truth be told, we were invited as a family, attended as a family, and gave gifts as a family (with my parents footing the bill).

And I have been to one wedding in which not only did my parents not attend, they weren’t even invited (they didn’t know the bride and groom, so why would they be?). But although I received my own invitation, it was not so much for my relationship with the bride and groom- at that point I barely knew them- but for my close friendship with current roommate and bride’s brother, Sachin. The wedding (which as a side note, was featured on TLC’s A Wedding Story), took place almost two years ago to the day. Twenty-one and fresh out of college, I had just gotten to New York and hadn’t yet received my first paycheck, so my gift was a mere 25 bucks.

Fast forward…I received my first real wedding invitation this weekend. The bride and groom are not family friends, nor siblings of friends, but actual friends that I’ve known since shortly after moving here. This weekend I’ll be attending the bachelor party (also a first for me). And come October, I’ll be attending my first wedding! I wasn’t invited with a guest, but I don’t really care because all of the bride’s friends are attractive single girls.

(Side note…conversation from last night…
Sachin: Haha, I didn’t get an invite. I’m Anushka’s “Guest”.
Amish: My invitation doesn’t say ‘& Guest’.
Anushka: Yeah no one else’s does. All (the bride’s girlfriends) are coming alone too. They’re actually happy you’re coming, because they’ll have a single, straight guy…
[floating on clowds...]
Anushka: …to dance with.
[annnnd....right back down])

Anyway, so after receiving the invitation, I checked out the website for bride-and-groom-to-be (because honestly, who doesn’t have a website these days. When If I ever get married, I’ll probably have a blog about it). I clicked on the links for the registries, hoping to scope out and purchase their gift(s).

But I stopped short. I can’t do it.

As the mature soon-to-be-24-year-old that I am, I am now well aware of the ‘pay-for-your-plate’ rule of purchasing wedding gifts. But I’m not that mature. And I just can’t bring myself to buy them a gift off their registry.

The bride, groom, and I play organized kickball together. As in league play. As in scheduled games and playoffs and matching t-shirts and umpires. Kickball. So I just can’t fathom buying them housewares. Although in the back of my mind, I know it is named after a famous designer (of dresses, I think?), when I hear “Vera Wang Fidelity 5-Piece Place Setting,” I don’t think “Hey, fancy plates!” I think, “Haha…you said wang..”

Despite the fact that some suitcase is constructed of durable Ballistic Dupont Teflon Protected Nylon and lightweight polycarbonate frame, I can’t get past the fact that the last time I saw the groom-to-be, we were playing beer pong and killed 12 beers. Each. This was on a Tuesday. Last Tuesday.

Bagless Vacuum? Yikes! Nora Goblet? What the hell’s a goblet? Medium Braided Lidded Tote? Does size matter? Upright Grocery Bag Holder? Seriously? Bath Towels? You really expect me to buy this shit? Pineapple Easy Slicer? Are. you. fucking. kidding?

I can’t buy anything off these lists. I need to find something else. Something that reflects my age and personality, their interests, and our friendship.

Cash?

I’ve got two months to figure it out. And then it’s on (like Donkey Kong). I’ll be the boy pulling on all the girls’ ponytails straight, single guy dancing with all the ladies.