-A few months ago I received a voicemail asking me to call the local courthouse and confirm my appointment for a marriage license. I was quite confused, considering the fact I never made an appointment – and don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a fiancee. Being the Good Samaritan that I am, though, I called up and explained the mistake. Consequently, somewhere out there is a couple that I assisted, albeit indirectly, in getting married without complication. There are days when I regret my decision to help out. You see, it’s been two years since I first theorized about the divide between those twentysomethings who are already married or about to tie the knot (“the Haves”), and those of us who are single and still think of each wedding invitation we receive as essentially a bill for $500 with really nice calligraphy (“the Have-Knots”). Now that wedding season has returned once again, it’s time for the Have-Knots to strike back.

-After the ceremony and approximately six minutes into the cocktail hour of any wedding, I always have the same thought: “There aren’t enough bartenders.” Seriously, if you can hire someone whose sole function it is to make sure the bride’s train doesn’t touch the ground as she walks down the aisle, you can have someone get me a fucking Goose on the rocks without having to wait more than a millisecond.

-I get insulted when I buy something from the online registry, but the address where the gift is headed is blocked out for “privacy concerns.” Listen, if I’m giving you expensive crystal, I want to know exactly what apartment it will never be used in.

-Last summer, my friend sent out wedding invitations that actually had a typo. They had to resend corrections that had the right date. I wasn’t able to attend but I saved the invite just in case it’s worth something one day – like a baseball error card.