You are on the cusp of not giving a fuck. The view from up here is pretty special, isn’t it?
In part II, you learned to qualify the fucks you give based on whether they annoy or bring joy. You quantified them based on whether they fit into your Fuck Budget. And you’ve been introduced to the tools and perspective—namely, feelings, opinions, honesty, and politeness—with which to make those calculations.
You sat down on the floor and you made all those lists and you decided which fucks you just don’t give. Maybe you even had to buy a new black marker because your first one ran out of ink. (I’ve seen it happen.) I congratulate you; really, I do.
But it’s about to get so much better.
Because in part III… you will actually STOP GIVING A FUCK.
Excited? Yeah!
Nervous? Don’t worry; I was too.
Let’s start by visualizing everything you stand to gain. This ought to get you psyched up and ready to give no fucks like the champ you are.
The holy fucking trinity: Time, energy, and money
Time, energy, and money are the things you gain by ceasing to give a fuck. And it’s extremely useful to keep them foremost in your mind when gearing up to take Step 2. Visualizing your gains releases endorphins into your brain. And in my professional opinion, endorphins are magic.
So take a minute and think about all the joy Step 2 will bring. For example:
Time
Sometimes all you want is a free hour to take a leisurely bath and clip your toenails. By not giving a fuck about making an appearance at your neighbor’s vegan BBQ, you get back that hour. Soak it in!
Energy
Sometimes you wish you could get up and go to the gym at six in the morning when no one else is watching. By not giving a fuck about attending someone’s ill-conceived ten o’clock Tuesday-night dinner party (WTF?), you can stay sober, rest up, and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Wednesday for your date with the elliptical machine.
Money
Sometimes you want that Caribbean vacation so bad you get sand in your shorts just thinking about it. By not giving a fuck about your grade-school friend’s wedding that you don’t understand why you were invited to in the first place, you can march on over to JetBlue.com and reallocate the thousand dollars you totally would have spent on it before reading this book, and you can do it with a clear conscience. NotSorry all the way to the Virgin Islands, baby!
Another way to visualize your gains is to take the items on your no-fucks list and plug them into the Venn diagram below. This way, you can clearly see where your time, energy, and money is being spent, and what you can get back by not giving those fucks.
With this in mind, let’s revisit your lists.
Mark a little T next to all the fucks that, when not given, result in more time for you to spend as you wish. Then do an E for energy, and, finally, an M for money. (It might be hard to see them through the line from your giant black marker, but I have a feeling they’re pretty fresh in your mind.)
Some items will fall in just one segment of the diagram, some in various combinations of T + E or E + M, etc. And, obviously, it’s not giving the fucks situated smack in the middle of where T + E + M intersect that will free you up in the most delightful ways possible.
Unfortunately that also means they’re probably going to require the most attention paid to other people’s feelings and opinions, communing closely with your Fuck Budget, potentially developing some personal policies, and making a few tough calls with regard to being an asshole.
But we can work with that.
My eventual diagram with regard to the Ten Things About Which I, Personally, Do Not Give a Fuck list here looks like this:
As you can see, mine is heavy on time and energy concerns, less heavy on money.
This makes sense because in my view, time is a finite resource, energy is somewhat renewable under the right circumstances, and there’s always more money to be made (plus: credit cards).
And to those of you who just choked on your minimum-wage paycheck, please understand that what I’m saying is that for me, compared to time—which started running out literally the second I took my first breath—additional money can at least potentially be earned or borrowed if need be; there is no such thing as “borrowed time.” Although I’m sure if American Express could figure that one out at 16.9 percent interest, they would.
But different strokes for different folks! It doesn’t really matter which resources are more valuable to you when doing this exercise, just that you learn to recognize them. Whatever the permutations of your diagram, looking at the items that fall within the categories that are most valuable to you will stand you in good stead when it comes to taking Step 2.
And help you start taking back that time, energy, and money!
Oh, hey, did you hear that? Those are your endorphins talking. They told me to tell you you’re doing great.
Baby steps
Not giving a fuck can be as simple as hanging up on a telemarketer, calling in sick on your birthday, or throwing on a baseball cap to meet the plumber at 7:00 a.m. instead of getting up two hours early to shower and blow-dry your hair like you’re entering Maxim’s Hometown Hotties contest.
But no matter how revved up you get by making your lists and deciding to do away with a passel of fucks, when push comes to shove, Step 2 can often take a little wind out of your sails. In order to avoid getting stalled on the open water with only a ham radio and a smile, I recommend diving (figuratively) back into the method that got you here.
By that I mean, start very deliberately with the fucks on your list that affect only you. This way, you can get comfortable with taking Step 2 before you ever have to confront other people’s feelings (which, as you may know, can be supremely inconvenient).
You might not even need to be polite. In fact, all you really have to be is honest—with yourself.
Threat level yellow: Easy fucks to stop giving
Don’t give a fuck about your Facebook friend’s constant drama? “Unfollow” is one of the easiest ways to not give a fuck ever invented. None of the confrontation of “Unfriend” and all of the benefits. Thank you, Mark Zuckerberg!
Don’t give a fuck about wrinkles? Stop spending money on lotions and serums, time applying them to your face, and energy worrying about the visible signs of aging, which—spoiler alert—are actually impossible to counteract unless your name is Christie Brinkley. Hot damn, she looks good.
Don’t give a fuck about understanding the stock market? Stop banging your head against the Wall Street Journal just to make yourself sound knowledgeable at dinner parties. (And maybe get yourself a financial adviser—the good ones pay for themselves.) Instead, use that time to become an expert on something that is truly meaningful to you—perhaps small-batch bourbon?—and let someone else field all the stock tips for your friend group.
Threat level orange: Medium-tough fucks to stop giving
This is when you move on to fucks that are clearly unreasonable drains on your time, energy, or wallet. The stuff that—while it may affect other people or require a conversation about opinions and/or feelings—is still, objectively, not your problem.
Don’t give a fuck that your forty-year-old friend has to move apartments tomorrow and is asking for helpers “in exchange for beer”? Pure honesty (“I can’t be responsible for your failings as an adult”) may not be the best policy here, but you can still politely beg off, citing some vague work commitment. After all, what does he know about work commitments?
Don’t give a fuck about promoting synergy in the workplace? At first you might worry that your boss is going to call you out on this one, but rest assured, synergy is exceedingly difficult to quantify and your lack of fucks won’t change that. Reserve this creative energy for something that will benefit YOU—like devising the winning bracket in the office NCAA pool.
Don’t give a fuck about your coworker’s decision to procreate? It’s as easy as not putting any money in that Diapers.com gift-card envelope they’re passing around the office. Worried that people will think you’re cheap? Please revisit here.
Threat level red: The hardest fucks to stop giving
These are the fucks that are going to require all your tools plus a fair amount of self-possession and maybe a personal policy or two. They involve other people, have high potential for hurting feelings/being an asshole, and are often socially unacceptable. In other words, what the NotSorry Method was invented for. Time to gird those loins!
Don’t give a fuck about extended-family weddings, graduations, and similar events? These things are usually planned fairly far in advance. That’s how they get you. I recommend a visualization exercise: Before you blithely check the “Yes” box on the RSVP card, making a dent in your Fuck Budget before the reality of the consequences can sink in, think about how you’re likely to feel on that day—or, worse, the night before, when you’re in line at airport security on your way to third cousin Barry’s Star Wars –themed wedding in Pittsburgh. As Yoda might say, “In a dark place we find ourselves, and a little more knowledge lights our way.” If you can access that deep reservoir of despair before you RSVP, you’re going to save yourself days (weeks? months?) of regret and anxiety leading up to the event and thousands of dollars in airfare and hotels. Simply check “RSVP Regrets” on the response card and send a gift. Perhaps a nice Death Star cutting board?*
Don’t give a fuck about your friends’ children? First, you need to make it clear that it’s not just their children—it’s all children! In that way, it’s somewhat of a personal policy. (And if you’re a parent yourself, “all children except mine” works too.) However, literally saying the words “I do not give a fuck about your children” is unlikely to yield positive results. You may never have to deal with those kids again, but you’ve also probably lost a friend. Assuming you do NOT want to be expected to attend functions where the guest of honor is a toddler, or ever, under any circumstances, be asked to babysit—but you do want to keep your friends—then you have to add a heaping helping of politeness in with that honesty. An occasional lollipop or So cute! shout-out on social media can be very effective. It’s the whole “spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down” philosophy. (Mary Poppins: NotSorry since 1934.)
Don’t give a fuck about puppies? Yeah, good luck with that.
A pep talk
I should acknowledge right here, right now, that even after you’ve made your decisions about which fucks not to give, and you’ve diagrammed your lists and started with the easy stuff, it’s not always going to be smooth sailing. Obviously people like myself and Richard Simmons have it all figured out, but if not giving a fuck was that easy, you’d all be doing it already.
Yes, you heard it here first: You may be tempted to backslide a little. It’s common. No worries. Like the birth control pill, the NotSorry Method is revolutionary but not 100 percent foolproof. If you find yourself experiencing early-morning nausea, just try to keep in mind this cautionary tale.
The party no one wants to go to
Recall that coworker’s karaoke birthday party we talked about in part II. Let’s say you’ve decided—in making your category lists—that you truly don’t give a fuck about karaoke, or Tim, or maybe about birthday parties in general. In fact, you’re quite sure that almost no one in your office wants to go to this party, but now that you’re reading this book, you’re the only one feeling brave enough to say no. You implement Step 2 and skip the party.
But then the next day, you feel somewhat uncomfortable. Maybe Tim or others are giving you the cold shoulder. (Focus: Do you give a fuck about what they think?) You falter. You begin to question your decision not to have given a fuck about your coworker and his party. You spend a few more energy fuck bucks just worrying about it.
Stop right there.
It is important not to confuse this unfamiliar feeling of freedom with feelings of regret or shame. You made the right decision. For God’s sake, they sang an entire Kenny Chesney album! That’s not a twinge of regret* you are experiencing; that’s freedom with a side of pity for the rest of your coworkers.
About most of whose opinions you will, eventually, stop giving a fuck.
Honesty: A sliding scale
I spent a lot of time in parts I and II hitting you over the head with the two keys to taking Step 2 without being an asshole: honesty and politeness. And although I do allow that in some instances, being polite is overrated (see here, “Sometimes It’s Okay to Hurt People’s Feelings”), honesty is actually the more, shall we say, flexible of the two principles.
Honesty is usually the best policy when not giving a fuck. It tends to level the playing field and helps you avoid a lot of that exhausting bush-beating-around—not to mention the “social media handicap” when you’ve been dishonest about why you can’t be somewhere and then you have to worry about being spotted on Facebook or Foursquare (is Foursquare still a thing?) “checking in” or “earning a badge” at some rival event.
So many extra fucks given!
Coming at your fucks from an honest perspective allows you to say things like “I’m sorry, I don’t have time to read your self-published novel about gnomes, but I wish you all the best with it” or “I don’t like tea.” Simple and direct and, if delivered politely, very effective.
Not hurting people’s feelings and not getting caught in a lie is the purest form of NotSorry. You have nothing to agonize over or apologize for.
But we all know there are times when you’ve taken Step 1 and decided not to give a fuck, and you’ve charted your most polite and honest course of action, yet implementing Step 2 feels… icky. The good news is, if you’re feeling that “ick” factor, it means you’re not an asshole. They never get the jitters.
My point is, if you have a hunch that full-blown honesty is NOT, in fact, the best policy, you can fudge it a little. For reference, I’ve compiled a handy list:
Times when full-blown honesty is perhaps not the best policy
When it involves someone else’s cooking
When it could just as easily be “a matter of scheduling”
When you don’t want to have to talk to anyone’s therapist about it
When Santa and small children are part of the equation
When dealing with a pregnant woman
When dealing with your mother-in-law
When dealing with your pregnant mother-in-law
Different fucks, same principle
In part II, we worked on deciding what you don’t give a fuck about. Then, earlier in part III, we reviewed some concepts to get you psyched up. Now—using real responses from real people as prompts—we will tackle NOT GIVING THOSE FUCKS.
That’s right, in this section, I’m returning to my research!
Using the results of my anonymous survey, I will provide you with examples of things that crop up regularly on other people’s No-Fucks-Given lists and show you how one might go about not giving fucks to those items without—say it with me—becoming an asshole.
To ease you into your practice of NotSorry, I’ve provided three levels of Step 2–taking, depending on your personality type and how comfortable you are being “no-nonsense” about this nonsense.
Let’s start with Category One: Things
At the time of this writing, more than 10 percent of responders singled out the Kardashians or a specific member of the Kardashian family (I’m looking at you, Kimberly) as something they don’t give a fuck about, with another 10 percent responding reality TV, reality-TV stars, or people famous for being famous. I don’t know what to tell you guys—this problem is bigger than all of us. I’ve spent a little time pondering the existential question If so many people don’t give a fuck about the Kardashians, then why are they all over my television set? but I quickly concluded: I don’t give a fuck.
Moving on.
Beyond the reality-TV gang—including bachelor/-ettes, housewives of wherever, and Duggars—a few other celebrities cropped up in the Things I Don’t Give a Fuck About category, among them Madonna, Hugh Jackman, and Drake. I think it’s pretty easy to proceed with Step 2 and not give a fuck here (unless you’re Drake’s mom, I guess), so I’m going to address some more pressing matters:
Recycling. The NotSorry Method is all about prioritizing your happiness and preserving your time and energy for things you care about. So if you don’t care about saving our planet…
Beginner: Resolve to recycle bottles and cans, but stop worrying about whether wax-coated paper and Styrofoam are eligible. Shhh… I won’t tell.
Intermediate: By all means, put that fleet of empties in the regular trash instead of bothering with separate bags and cans. You partied hard last night. You need a rest.
Expert: Delegate the recycling to your spouse or roommates and give it not another fuck. Plausible deniability. Look it up.
NPR. I personally have nothing against NPR—Hi, guys! Feel free to book me on any one of your many illuminating, entertaining programs!—but I do understand the impulse to not give a fuck about something the rest of society seems to fetishize, especially when it’s served up with a healthy dose of elitism. (See my views on the New Yorker, here.)
Beginner: When someone mentions NPR, say, “Wait, wait, don’t tell me,” and then walk away. They’ll just assume you’re being clever.
Intermediate: Make up a fake NPR show, tell people it’s your favorite, and enjoy watching them pretend like they listen to it too.
Expert: If you’ve successfully stopped giving a fuck what other people think, then the next time your friends start waxing poetic about All Things Considered, you can hold your head high and pronounce those five liberating little words: “I don’t listen to NPR.”
N.B. rosé. See above, but substitute the words “I don’t like rosé” and then enjoy watching everyone at the table secretly think, Neither do I. What am I doing with my life?
Who “really” wrote Shakespeare’s plays. If you’re a Shakespeare scholar, you have to give a fuck about this, or at least pretend to. Everyone else? Not so much.
Beginner: When someone at a cocktail party presses the Christopher Marlowe argument, mutter, “A Marlovian, eh?” and then spit on the ground. He’ll get the message.
Intermediate: If you get cornered, make like Hotspur in Henry IV, Part One. Say, “‘O gentlemen, the time of life is short!’” Then swoop off into the next room and quickly pull an Irish good-bye.* (Excellent, excellent strategy for not giving a fuck under innumerable circumstances, by the way.)
Expert: Don’t go to these parties in the first place.
Game of Thrones. Another fairly simple execution of NotSorry, as no one is forcing you at sword point to read the books or watch the show (though that would be kind of awesome in an ironic way). But in terms of having to listen to other people talk about reading the books and watching the show, you still need to be prepared.
Beginner: “Oh… you’re still talking about this? Sorry, I zoned out. Guess I won’t get invited over to watch the finale—darn!”
Intermediate: An honest, polite “Hey, guys, since I don’t really give a fuck about Game of Thrones, I’m gonna duck out now and catch up with you Tuesday morning when you’re done hypothesizing about what really happened to Jon Snow and how it’s different from the books.”
Expert: Invest in a T-shirt that says
DRAGONS DON’T GIVE A F*CK.
Wear it every Monday as needed.
Social media. Where to begin? In our modern world, not being on Facebook is akin to being a Communist in 1950s Hollywood. Lemmings don’t like it when other lemmings don’t fall in line. I myself am the proud owner/operator of Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram accounts (though, as you know, I draw the line at Google Plus). But if you’re one of the happy few committed to a “Like”-free life, stay strong. There are no hashtags where you’re going.
Beginner: Maybe just pick one platform, set up a shell page, and forget about it. Facebook privacy settings are a bitch, so I recommend lurking on Twitter—that’s where all the good stuff is anyway. People behave very, very badly on Twitter.
Intermediate: Fine, don’t open any accounts, but also don’t talk about how you have no Facebook page. You’re just asking for trouble.
Expert: Have you heard of “Catfishing”?
Who anyone else is attracted to. Kudos to you, Enlightened One! If you know this is something about which you give no fucks, it is extremely easy to proceed to Step 2.
Beginner: See those two people of the same sex over there nibbling each other’s ears? Isn’t that cute?
Intermediate: Flipping through a magazine, you spy Billy Joel’s fourth wife and her skin that glows like moonstone in contrast to his sexy, sexy gin blossoms. Turn the page.
Expert: It is so monumentally easy to not give a fuck about who anyone else is attracted to, that once you reach expert level you owe it to your fellow citizens to not only not give a fuck, but to remind all the people you encounter in the act of giving this fuck how idiotic they are for doing it.
Category Two: Work
Many, many people who took the survey responded that they don’t give a fuck about meetings, conference calls, and dress codes—items we already covered in depth in part II. But here are some additional common refrains that are obviously in dire need of the NotSorry treatment:
Unsolicited e-mail, answering of. This is a good example of something that technically affects someone else (i.e., the sender of the e-mail) besides you, but if the original message was unsolicited, it doesn’t count.
Beginner: You are hereby authorized to not give a fuck. Hit Delete and spend a little extra time surfing Gawker. God knows they don’t give a fuck.
Intermediate: Delete the e-mails and block the senders. That’ll teach ’em.
Expert: Run one of those fancy Unsubscribe programs for your entire in-box full of e-newsletters, coupon codes, and Kickstarter updates. The effect is not unlike taking your first hit of heroin (or so I’m told).
Gossip. If you really don’t want to be a cog in the office rumor mill, there are a variety of ways you can handle it with a minimum of fucks given.
Beginner: Close your door, if you have one. If not, invest in a pair of headphones. What’s the point of gossiping with someone wearing headphones? Exactly.
Intermediate: A polite “I don’t want to hear it” and then casually covering your ears with both hands until they walk away should get your point across nicely.
Expert: Next time someone mentions your coworker Regina’s sexting habit, simply put up your hand and repeat after me: “Imma tell her you said that.” Voilà! You are no longer trusted with gossip.
Team-building exercises. It’s bad enough that we all have to work together day in and day out; do we really have to work on our working? It’s like starring in a bad Fellini movie but with worse coffee.
Beginner: Take a vacation day.
Intermediate: Take a sick day.
Expert: Take a personal day.
Kissing ass. In part II, I said that for every one thing you have to give a fuck about at work, there must be five that you don’t. Kissing ass is one of them. Do your job well and there should be no need to debase yourself by brown-nosing the boss, his assistant, or the woman in Public Relations with whom the boss is rumored to be having an affair.
Beginner: Just don’t do it. It’s easy to opt out of something that’s not even part of your actual job description.
Intermediate: If ass-kissing is demanded by the aforementioned boss, consider snapping a photo of him and his paramour and engaging in petty blackmail instead. Same fucks expended, more satisfying result.
Expert: Employ reverse psychology. If there are some aspects of your job you really should give a fuck about but don’t, then ass-kissing might actually come in handy. It’s your world, squirrel.
Coworkers’ kids. When Paul from Accounting starts yapping away about his daughter’s fifth-runner-up finish in the local spelling bee, you may think you have no recourse. But you would be wrong.
Beginner: Clutch your stomach and say, “Hey, that’s great, but I’ve got to run!” Honest and polite—and for all Paul knows, you’re suffering from crippling diarrhea (an excellent spelling-bee word, BTW).
Intermediate: “Huh. Weird. I wonder where she got that from?” Honest, borderline polite, this is what we in the business call a “mic drop.”
Expert: “Oh, that’s nice. My daughter is illiterate.” Paul will never speak to you again. About anything.
The company mission statement. Have you heard of the Infinite Monkey theorem? They used it on an episode of The Simpsons where Mr. Burns has a thousand monkeys typing at a thousand typewriters, the idea being that if given enough time, the monkeys could produce the works of Dickens. This is essentially how company mission statements are created, and why you need not give a fuck about memorizing or adhering to them. They are the products of untold man-hours of “brainstorming” and “focus-grouping” resulting in the blandest, most generalized, least-potentially-offensive, frequently asinine copy that could have been created by any group of monkeys in any boardroom in America.
ALL LEVELS: I suggest that every time you encounter a corporate mission statement, rather than reading/absorbing it, you instead spend two minutes imagining a roomful of monkeys smoking cigars and happily click-clacking away. I honestly think that would be more useful to you.
“Whose job it is.” This is a double-edged sword. Clearly none of us want to be doing other people’s jobs. But I hear ya loud and clear on not giving a fuck about “whose job it is” when that argument becomes an excuse to not complete some perfectly simple task that is otherwise holding up the entire project. Charlene in Intimates isn’t restocking her panties in a timely fashion and nobody else wants to pitch in? Fine, she sucks, but none of us can get out of here until the whole Ladies’ Department is spic-and-span.
Beginner: Just do it yourself and take it up with management on Monday. You may expend some time and energy, but you’ll have fun getting Charlene fired next week. Net gain.
Intermediate: Do her job this one time (and plan to report her), but just for kicks, leave a note from the Thong Fairy advising Charlene that her days are numbered.
Expert: Suggest that everyone draw straws to see who has to bat cleanup. Keep a trick straw in your pocket at all times.
Other people’s weekends, the full rundown. It may come as a shock to some of your coworkers, but weekends are where most people go to avoid “work, doing of” and “coworkers, talking to.” Upon your arrival back at the office on Monday, if you find yourself confronted with a coworker’s Tale of Stand-Up-Paddleboarding Lessons on Martha’s Vineyard, you can always implement the same Step 2 strategy you used with Paul and his spelling prodigy. As Bert Lance, director of the Office of Management and Budget in Jimmy Carter’s 1977 administration, once said, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Beginner: “Gotta run!” [Clutches stomach.]
Intermediate: “Um… thanks for the visual?”
Expert: “My [wife/husband/significant other] died in a freak paddleboarding accident.”
Performance evaluations. You probably have to show up to your performance evaluation if you want to keep your job. But—and I know this may sound counterintuitive—you don’t have to give a fuck about it while you’re sitting there. Why? Because this is a situation in which the die has been cast. That evaluation has already been rendered by your boss; today just happens to be the day you have to listen to it.
Beginner: Picture your boss in his underwear. Hopefully this will relax you, not gross you out.
Intermediate: Picture your boss in a gimp suit and sequined heels.
Expert: Wear a gimp suit and sequined heels to your performance evaluation and immediately become the mayor of No Fucks Given.
How much of a “true fan” of Tarantino your coworker is. Only one person submitted this response, but I hope that whoever you are, you’re reading this book because this is, like, the Holy Grail of not giving a fuck. I hope your coworker is reading it too, because he or she deserves to be Step 2’d all over the place. Just lay it down. Be totally honest. You don’t even need to be polite. Please, put yourself and everyone else at your office out of your collective misery.
Category Three: Friends, acquaintances, and strangers
I’m going to take a slightly different tack here, because the circumstances under which you might not give a fuck about items and events related to friends, acquaintances, and strangers are more fluid, numerous, and complex than in any other category.
And also because variety is the spice of life.
Unless you change jobs (and sometimes even then), Work has a relatively finite fuck list (same you-know-what, different day), Things are largely inanimate and therefore require less finesse when it comes to taking Step 2, and Family maintains a fairly stable rotating cast of fucks year after year (thanks in part to those delightful holiday traditions we discussed earlier).
But friends, acquaintances, and strangers are, on the whole, less predictable. They come in and out of your life with more regularity (especially strangers, who are constantly popping up with their petitions and their terrible parking jobs and their “community-outreach meetings”), and they often move in packs that can make it difficult to navigate through Step 1, let alone execute Step 2.
Luckily, there’s one universal life event that—if you can even come close to mastering its labyrinthine twists and challenges—will provide a blueprint for nearly all interactions in this category.
Sort of a case study, if you will.
You wondered when we’d get to weddings, didn’t you?
I like weddings. Weddings are fun and joyous celebrations of love. I have had an absolute blast at about forty-two of them in my lifetime. So when the inevitable Amazon reviewer quotes this next part out of context, just remember that all I’m saying is what everyone knows to be true: weddings make a huge dent in your Fuck Budget.
Remember that Venn diagram? Weddings sit squarely at the intersection of time, energy, and money.
The first few you go to are novel experiences. There’s dancing, booze, free cake, maybe a photo booth. Woo-hoo, weddings! As time goes on—especially for readers in their twenties and thirties who have similarly aged friends and siblings and cousins—you’ll probably go to lots more. They will become a little less novel and, by virtue of their frequency, possibly a little less fun, or at least more of a drain on your time and energy. Certainly a lot more expensive. And suddenly you’ve got twelve wedding invitations—plus related events like engagement parties and bridal showers and bachelor/-ette parties—and only so much disposable income and so many vacation days in a year.
If you’re in your fifties, sixties, and seventies, now you’re getting invited to your friends’ kids’ weddings! Which means you have even less of a stake in the party but it takes just as much time, energy, and money to get there.
There’s no shame in admitting that not every person’s wedding until the end of time is a wedding that you, once invited, must attend.
You often make sacrifices to be part of your friends’ (or friends’ kids’) special days and you’re happy about it. But sometimes? Sometimes you may not be able to afford their destination of choice. You may want to go to the wedding but not be able to fit sixteen related events into your calendar. You may not actually know these people very well. Or you may just not want to or not be able to go for one or more of a host of reasons that are perfectly justifiable.
We’ve all been there, even if I’m the only one willing to admit it in print. Other people’s weddings are where the Enlightened go to knock back warm shots of well vodka and beg for mercy in the arms of a willing bridesmaid.
Old fucks, new fucks, borrowed fucks, blue fucks
The reason that weddings provide such a helpful case study in the grand scheme of Category Three fuck-giving is that they involve friends, acquaintances, and even total strangers, ALL AT ONCE.
Think of it this way: Your wedding, your fucks. Add in-laws, and you’ve got your hands full. But when it comes to someone else’s wedding, you still wind up being asked to give a fuck about all kinds of things, each of which is likely tied to a friend or family member of your friend and so on and so forth, which means many of those people are mere acquaintances or strangers to you.
For a brief (or not so brief) period, you’re inheriting enough fucks to power a small nation’s GDP. Tuvalu’s, say, for an intimate ceremony. Or the Federated States of Micronesia’s for a big black-tie affair.
Don’t give a fuck about contributing a photo to the slide show for the rehearsal dinner? That’s your prerogative—but it affects your friend, who WILL notice the conspicuous absence of your third-grade Laverne and Shirley Halloween costumes, plus it affects whatever poor sap was roped into organizing the slide show to begin with and who has to collect enough pics to fill a PowerPoint the length of “My Heart Will Go On.” (Fuck PowerPoint.)
It also probably affects the mother of the bride, because everything affects the mother of the bride.
Don’t give a fuck about deciphering the dress code of your pal’s “Semi-Formal Creative Summer Cocktail Casual” wedding at the groom’s DC country club in the dead of August? Sure, you can wear your no-fucks-given Old Navy romper, but then you run the risk of (a) horrifying the in-laws, (b) ruining at least two pictures, and (c) making everyone else at the reception extremely jealous about how comfortable you are. Possibly so jealous that someone “accidentally” spills Shiraz on your romper.
When it comes to weddings, Step 2 should be taken very, very carefully to achieve maximum NotSorry and minimum sobbing brides, terminated friendships, and credit card debt. We’re talking “hazmat-suit” levels of care taken. (Come to think of it, it’s really too bad hazmat suits are not appropriate wedding attire.)
But once you’ve mastered the delicate dance of honesty and politeness required to navigate a wedding with minimum fucks given, you’re on your way to getting the most possible joy—and the least amount of annoy—out of not only every wedding you do (or do not) attend, but out of life in general.
That’s right, applying the NotSorry Method to other people’s weddings is a master class in and of itself!
Up ahead, I’ve detailed four common wedding-related scenarios in which you might someday find yourself wanting to give no, or fewer, fucks. They will test your resolve, challenge your adherence to the method, and nudge you ever farther down the path of enlightenment. Each is accompanied by an Honesty and Politeness Matrix, with the points on the matrices denoting the relative honesty/politeness of your action so you can see precisely where your stated goal of not giving a fuck aligns with peak NotSorry practice—and when you’re dangerously close to (or situated deep inside) the Asshole Quadrant.
The wedding that takes place over a holiday weekend
The situation: Your friends are getting married during a long weekend that you traditionally reserve for a fun vacation or annual family gathering. Maybe a national holiday is the only time the bride and groom can get off from work. Or maybe they’re teachers, so spring break is their jam. Maybe they hope that people will be glad to have the extra day off work to put toward attending their wedding—and that’s very nice of them, really!—but now you have to choose between allocating your fucks to the Vacation You Look Forward to All Year Long and Three Days of Salmon and Small Talk in Tampa. Your goal is to proceed with the former.
How do you respond?