Dinner. Sounds pretty good right?
Friends. Also a good thing.
But organising a group dinner with all of your friends is just the absolute worst. And here’s why…
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You have to find a magical unicorn of a restaurant that suits the needs of all your vegetarian and meat loving friends.
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… and that one vegan person someone invited.
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… and your mate’s gluten intolerant girlfriend.
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… and your friend who has exactly $12.59 in their bank account until next Tuesday but still expects to be catered for.
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… and it has to be BYO and somewhere close to everyone.
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Half the people will respond to your Facebook invite with a ‘maybe’, leaving you to organise dinner for between four to 22 people.
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Several of your friends said they’d turn up to dinner between one and three hours late on the night. Evidently, they were never taught how dinner works.
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Someone will ask if they can invite Kate, which means you’ll have to invite Dave and Mel. And Dave and Mel hate you.
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The growing list of dinner guests means you’ll have to sit at two separate tables. Hopefully all the people you like arrive first so they can sit at the good table with you.
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One F-wit will begin rallying the troops to go to a club after dinner. They must be suppressed.
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Your best friend won’t be able to make it and you’ll be committed to hanging out with C-grade friends and people you used to work with.
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Your FB event page will eventually be flooded with questions about how to get to the restaurant. The relentless communication will disrupt your every moment of peace and solitude. Eventually you to quit your job so you can fully dedicate yourself to teaching Amy how to catch public transport to the city.
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Your mate who is too broke to pay for a $13 Chicken Chow Mein said they’d come to the dinner but won’t eat (but will drink your wine).
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You’ll wake up one day and realise you’ve become a personal concierge service for your dinner guests. “Well, Ben, I’d say we’ll probably wrap the dinner up by 10.30pm, so if you catch an Uber by 10.40pm you should make it to your friend's housewarming before 11pm.” “Hey Kristy, I just looked it up online and it looks like it will be a bit breezy on Friday so I’d bring a cardigan just in case. As for wearing heels on the night, that depends on whether you intend to drive or walk in.”
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A few hours before the dinner, a scourge of disease will sweep through the city, wiping out around one third of your dinner party. You’ll need to cancel the second table at the restaurant and the waitress will fully hate you. She’ll probably live Tweet your dinner and tell the world what horrible people you are.
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At least three of your friends will arrive late, leaving you in dining purgatory. You can’t order food yet and the waitress keeps coming back to ask if you’re ready to order. Eventually, you’ll see the light go out in her eyes and at that moment, you’ll both know that she will ignore you for the rest of the night.
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If you order food before everyone arrives, then everyone else will have to order separately and then the waitress will be waiting for you in the car park later with a baseball bat.
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When it’s time to pay the bill, two people will point out that they only ordered an entrée and shouldn’t have to pay as much as everyone else.
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No one will bring cash. Not. One. Person.
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Someone will inevitably give the waitress attitude because she refuses to take 20 separate credit card payments. The waitress will stab that person in the face and they will die in your arms.
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You’ll end up paying for the whole dinner and will have to email everyone tomorrow with your bank details and how much they owe you.
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After dinner, the ‘lets have a big night’ uprising will attempt to steer the group towards a club. Just walk away.
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You’ll end up walking home from dinner muttering to yourself “Never again, never again.” You notice the sound of footsteps behind you. You quicken your step but the person behind matches your pace. You make a snap decision to cross the other side of the road but it’s too late, the waitress tackles you to the ground and holds a broken wine glass to your throat, the same wine glass your drunk friend broke within five minutes of arriving at the restaurant. You know in that moment that you shouldn’t have organised a group dinner. How could you have been so foolish? Regret, and the memory of your mate asking the restaurant to change their playlist, will be your last thought on this miserable earth.
Kids, don’t organise group dinners, it's just not worth it.
If all that's got you thinking about giving up wine, read this first.
Image credit: Nancy Hanna