It Hardly Matters

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Dear Evite

Hey, E. How's it goin'? Listen, I'm flattered that you want me to simultaneously attend a Park Slope rootftop BBQ and an after-work drink party in Midtown, but, dude, chill your shit. That's not humanly possible. Actually, come to think of it, you wouldn't realize that, being a nonhuman web-based entity serving over a million invitees a day. Sorry. But, please, I beg you, spend a few minutes in my shoes. I have work, and school, and, you know, laundry and shit. I can't be galavanting all over this fair city to see if your gatherings are real versions of the high-minded clip art soiree representations you so casually fling into my inbox.

I think we should see other web-based social-gathering services. I know this is harsh, but, frankly, you're smothering me and I can't take it anymore. I need time to peruse MySpace and CitiSearch. I have GoogleTalking to conduct. I know that you will be okay without me. Fact is, I heard from some of my girls that you have been emailing them and asking them out. So go out with them if you'd like. You are free to do what you please. I'll always have fond memories of the early days when you so tenderly graced my Hotmail account with the first invite: it was for a baby shower, represented by a cartoon fuzzy yellow chick wearing a bonnet and a diaper with a large saftey pin on the left side. Nothing can take that away from us.

Please, don't cry. I know you'll get through this.



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