RSVP

The acronym RSVP on an invitation is taken from the French—Répondez, s’il vous plait—meaning Please reply.  In the good old days, of course, it was intended that the reply would be returned only to the original sender.

Nowadays, malheureusement, the acronym needs to be assigned a new meaning because of our ubiquitous email correspondences—Replies Should Vanish Promptly!

And why do I propose that?  Because so many folks, when replying to an email sent to a group of people, decide they will send their replies to everyone.  Reply All!

Needless to say, some of those replies can be embarrassing, not just to the people who compose them, but to the sender of the original email, or even to some of those cc’d.  Depending on the subject of the original, they can even be the source and spread of salacious, delicious (and perhaps litigious) gossip.

Take this example I discovered a week or so ago in my inbox, addressed to me and six other folks—The surprise 20^th anniversary party for Cheryl and Ted has been cancelled.  Sorry for the short notice.  Seems straightforward, right, even if a little vague about the reason for the cancellation?

I replied to the sender only, my sister, who was hosting the party—No problem, thanks for letting us know.  Hope all is well.  I figured if she wanted my wife and I to know the reasons, she’d have told us.

Not so the others, all of whom cc’d their replies (unwittingly, I can only assume) to the entire distribution list.  I was aghast, I must admit, as I read through them.  In the spirit of honesty, I should confess I was also amused, titillated, shocked (and delighted) to have been included.

No surprise! read one.  I heard she fell off the wagon. 

Neither my wife nor I even knew Cheryl was a heavy drinker.

We saw Bill from next door carrying her up the driveway in his arms! read the next note.  She must’ve passed out on the street!

A third one read—We probably wouldn’t have come, anyway.  I heard Ted was off somewhere with Louise from across the street.

We don’t know Louise all that well, but Ted, in my experience, never seemed like a woman-chaser.  Or magnet. 

Another reply read—That figures!  I always thought Louise was on the make.  If she’s hooked up with Ted, all the other wives on the street can relax.

My wife and I don’t live on that street, but I must admit I felt a twinge of curiosity about Louise, despite having no clue as to her proclivities.  A cougar, perhaps?  She’s certainly never evinced any interest in me—not that I’d want…oh, never mind.

Another correspondent wrote—If I wasn’t so sure my husband is faithful, I’d worry about Louise!  Jack is her fourth husband!

Jack’s lucky! came a quick reply.  I heard her first three all died mysteriously, and she collected the insurance.  If it wasn’t for Ted, Jack could be a lot worse off.

This was all news to us, of course.  I found myself wondering what the party would have been like if it hadn’t been cancelled.  Brutal, by the tone of the emails.

 Don’t waste your sympathy on Jack! read another.  He’s a lawyer!  And if that isn’t bad enough, he’s been involved with my brother’s wife for months now, behind Louise’s back.

How do you know that? someone else challenged.

My brother told me!  And he’s not happy!

By this time, my wife and I were having a hard time keeping track of everyone on the thread.  Reply All can be very confusing.  In desperation, I sent a private email to my sister—What’s going on here?

She replied almost immediately, to my email only—Cheryl fell off the wagon while one of the kids was pulling her on the driveway, broke her leg.

OMG! I replied, privately.

Ted was off with Louise, who he’d asked to help him choose a gift for Cheryl for the surprise party.

Well, that’s innocent enough. 

Exactly! came my sister’s reply. 

I wrote—So what’s this about Bill carrying her in his arms?

He carried her to his car, took her to the clinic.  His wife watched the kids.

That all sounded pretty harmless, I thought.  So why is someone saying the other wives can relax because Ted was off with Louise?

Petty jealousy! my sister explained.  Louise is the hairdresser who cuts their husbands’ hair, and the men really like her.  The wives are worried she’s planning to make one of them her fifth husband as soon as Jack dies.

I was still confused.  Jack’s dying?  OMG!

Jack’s not dying! came my sister’s prompt reply.

I wrote—He’s not? Okay, that’s good!  But they’re saying he’s involved with someone’s brother’s wife?  And Louise doesn’t know?

Louise knows! my sister wrote.  Jack is representing the woman in a divorce case, so of course her husband is unhappy.

These notes back and forth between my sister and me were all private, of course, cc’d to no one else.  But at that point, my inbox chimed with five more emails added in rapid succession to the previous thread, each one addressed Reply All—

This is Cheryl.  I’m reading all your notes.

Bill here.  Me, too.

This is Louise.  You bitches!

Ted here.  Cheryl’s leg is in a cast now.  Thanks for caring!

This is Jack.  Online libel is a crime.  Please keep a copy of your emails, pending receipt of a subpoena from my firm for their contents.

RSVP— Replies Should Vanish Promptly!

_{© J. Bradley Burt 2021}